


The One Who Loves

by Starkindler



Series: Fated [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Discussion of death and violence with regards to the Sacking of Erebor, F/M, M/M, discussion of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkindler/pseuds/Starkindler
Summary: Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield were destined to be a part of one another's lives and their divine parents were going to make sure they crossed paths on the road to Erebor and even beyond, if need be, until they got the picture themselves.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fíli/Adalgrim Took, Kíli/Tauriel
Series: Fated [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967380
Comments: 27
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted to my site earlier this year as an entry to the Every Fandom Bang, so some of you may have already read this. 
> 
> If you look at the EFB site, you'll find the art that helgatwb made for me. Much thanks to her for the hard work she did.
> 
> Title taken from the Mikhail Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita: “But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the one he loves.”

Bilbo whistled as he placed his travel bags into the back of his wagon, double-checking that everything was there before going to Bag End and locking it up. He turned around and smiled when he saw Holman walking up. “Just in time!” he said as he handed over the keys.

“I see you're all ready to go,” Holman said. “Got everything? All your travel foods, your canteens? Your travel bed? Clothing for every possible occasion, episodes of epic heroism included? Plenty of pipeweed and handkerchiefs?”

Bilbo laughed. “I do indeed. Not my first journey to Rivendell. It's been a while though, and I miss my friends there.”

“I'm sure they miss you as well,” Holman said. “Don't you worry none about Bag End. We'll take good care of it.”

“Thank you,” Bilbo said. “All my paperwork is up-to-date in case the worst should happen, and I have copies with Grandmother Laura, Grandpa Gerontius, and the solicitors in Michel Delving that I use. Feel free to tell the Sackville-Bagginses to go straight to Mordor if they try anything underhanded.”

Holman snorted. “I won't be the least bit surprised if they do try something underhanded. You know how that lot is.”

“I do,” Bilbo agreed. “The last time I went to Bree, they started dropping rumors that I’d been eaten by a wolf in the wild and wouldn’t return a  _ day  _ after I left Bag End. Grandma Laura apparently pointed out rather dryly that it had only been a day, and that even with a wagon I hadn’t yet reached Buckland let alone anywhere in the wild where there might be wolves to eat me in the middle of summer. Then she told them to sod off and find a life.”

Holman laughed and shook his head. “I adore that woman. If they spent half the time they used talking about inheriting from you to do their own work, they'd not have to worry about getting your money and lands. They'd have their own.”

“Which is why I left them a generous one hundred gold pieces in my will. They can't complain that I didn't leave them anything at all. They're ridiculous but hardly worth bothering with.” He looked up at the sky, which was clear and bright. “It's a bit later than I wanted to leave, so I best get going. I will see you when I see you! Who knows what trouble I might get up to this time?”

“Well, the last time you threw the One Ring into Mount Doom, so I don't know that can be topped.” Holman smirked at him. “Try not to outdo yourself this time, or the next time I see you will be in Yavanna's Fields. I would much prefer that not to be the case.”

Bilbo snorted as he climbed into the driver's seat. “I'll do my best not to turn everyone's hair white this time. No promises, though. I have to be me.” He smiled down at Holman. “Give my love to the family!” 

“I will. Off with you!” 

Bilbo waved and set the horses to going, carefully making his way down the lane and onto the East Road. He kept an easy pace, waving at various hobbits he knew as he traveled. A few hours later, he quirked an eyebrow when he saw a rather tall man in grey robes and a grey hat walking down the road, walking stick in hand. Bilbo was certain he’d seen him somewhere before, but only Yavanna knew where. He waved at the man when he held up a hand in greeting and drove on by. 

Bilbo made it to the White Stag Inn close to dusk and took a room for the night.

~*~

Gandalf frowned when the dwarves he'd sent toward Bag End came back less than half an hour later. “What's wrong?”

Dwalin scowled at him. “There's not anyone at the house you pointed us to. No one's answering. We even tried the door to see if something was amiss, but it's locked up tight and the whole thing is dark.” He huffed and folded his arms over his chest. “I thought you said he was waiting for us!”

“He wasn't at home when I arrived earlier, but I'm certain he was just at the marketplace preparing for your arrival,” Gandalf said, a sinking feeling in his gut. He knew, he just knew that  _ this  _ hobbit was the one he needed to help secure the stronghold in the East. “I'll have to investigate. Perhaps there was a family emergency or something. He has quite a few relatives in various parts of the Shire. We'll just have to wait until morning and see what we can discover from his neighbors.

“In the meantime, do you know where Thorin is? He was supposed to be here, wasn't he?” Gandalf asked him.

“He went to a meeting in the north with some of our kin. He'll be here when he gets here,” Dwalin said as he sat down. “You know how travel can be.”

“Well, there's nothin' to do but wait,” Bofur said and then grinned. “Who is up for a game of cards?”

~*~

Bilbo went to the pub down the lane from the inn for supper and, if luck was with him, some interesting conversation with the locals. He waved at the hobbit behind the bar. “Hello, Master Bilberry. I hope you're doing well.”

“I am, Master Baggins, I am. You staying at the White Stag?”

“Of course. It’s my favorite in these parts. I'm on my way to Rivendell, thought I'd come for a bite and a pint or two.”

“Find yourself a seat if you can and I'll bring you both of my best!” Bilberry beamed at him and motioned behind Bilbo. “We're frightfully busy tonight.”

“So I can see,” Bilbo said, looking into the seating area. Most of the tables were filled up, though there was one table occupied by a single person. A dwarf.

A very attractive dwarf, if Bilbo's eyes didn't deceive him. One he hadn't seen around here before because he'd have remembered  _ him _ .

Bilbo straightened his weskit and strode over to the table. At one time, he wouldn't have dared to approach a stranger in such a manner, but traveling to Mordor and destroying a dark lord did amazing things for one's self-confidence. He smiled when the dwarf—the  _ extremely  _ attractive dwarf, be still his hobbity heart—looked up and raised an eyebrow. “The place is full up. Mind if I share with you?” 

“Not at all, Master Hobbit,” the dwarf said, his voice deep and smooth. Bilbo found himself envious of whichever lucky person had him murmuring sweet words in their ear. “Please have a seat.”

“Call me Bilbo,” Bilbo said as he took a seat across from him. 

“Thorin.” 

“What brings you to the Shire, Thorin?” Bilbo asked as he settled in. “If you don't mind me asking that is.”

“Not at all. I'm on my way to a place called Hobbiton. I'm to meet with some of my people there. We're to meet a hobbit who is to help us with a problem we're having. The wizard, Gandalf, made arrangements for us.”

Bilbo blew out a breath and frowned as he thought about earlier that day. “You know, I thought that bloke I passed on the road looked familiar. Tall, old, long beard, wearing grey robes and a hat? Walks with a stick or staff or something?”

“Yes, that's him,” Thorin said with a nod and a little smile. 

“Ah, then I saw him a few hours from Hobbiton this morning. He was headed in that direction. I haven’t actually seen him around the Shire since I was maybe perhaps five, but definitely no older than ten. I’d have to say it was probably at one of my grandfather’s birthday parties.”

“I'm sure he’s there by now. I was supposed to make it there tonight, but I'm later than I expected.”

Bilberry came over with Bilbo's food and drink. “Can I get anything else for you, Master Dwarf?” he asked Thorin politely.

“Another ale and what he's having, please,” Thorin said, motioning to Bilbo's plate. “It looks delicious.”

“I'll be back shortly,” Bilberry said, all but bouncing back toward the kitchen.

“Your friends won't worry about you if you don't show up tonight, will they?” Bilbo asked, though he didn't ask why they were meeting a hobbit in Hobbiton. It really was none of his business if Thorin didn't want to offer it up without his prodding and pestering. 

“No. They knew that I might not make it when they did. One of the issues with trying to calculate travel times.”

“Yes, it can be most troublesome,” Bilbo said and laughed. “Especially when one gets unexpectedly side-tracked. One time I was about six months later than the latest my family expected me. They were quite put out with me, but sometimes you just find yourself in surprising predicaments.”

Thorin laughed a little. “I can imagine they were fretting a bit if you were  _ six months  _ late.”

“Grandma Adamanta and Grandma Laura teamed up to give me a four-and-a-half-hour lecture on ill-advised stupidity and going off with half-baked plans. My grandfathers just walked by the door occasionally and smirked at me. I had two cousins who would peek in and cackle at me. Mostly because I went off without them and they took umbrage to that.”

Thorin laughed louder at that. “And what are you doing now?”

“Heading to Rivendell. I still have some Healer training I need to do, and Lord Elrond is the best Healer in all of Middle-Earth. My healing abilities work a little differently than his, but he's the most well-versed I know in the anatomies and needs of other beings.” 

Bilbo shrugged as he cut into his roast. “I'm actually hoping that once I'm done with Elrond, I'll find a Dwarven Healer to train with for more practical experience with Dwarven healing. We've had a few instances where dwarves have needed healing while coming through the Shire, or have given birth unexpectedly while on the roads in our lands, and we just don't know a lot about them. We've muddled through, but I would like to do more than just find my way through situations blindly.”

Thorin tilted his head. “It's an admirable thing, to want to heal others. If we meet again and it's in my power, I shall try to find you a Healer with my people.”

Bilbo beamed at him. “That's very kind, Thorin. Thank you.”

“Here's your food, sir,” Bilberry said as he approached, setting his plate and ale in front of Thorin.

The two ate and chatted amicably for several hours before heading back to the White Stag Inn, where they were both staying. 

Bilbo leaned against his bedroom door. “It was lovely speaking with you, Thorin. I hope we meet again someday. And I hope that whatever it is you're looking for, you find it.”

“Thank you,” Thorin said, smiling down at him. “And good luck with the training. If Lord Elrond is willing to teach you, you must be quite gifted and an eager and willing student. Most Masters would be thrilled to have one such as you learn from them.”

Bilbo watched as Thorin walked down the hall and around the corner, out of sight. He sighed and slipped into his room. It really was a shame they didn't have time to get to know one another better.

~*~

Gandalf frowned at the door of Bag End the next morning when he knocked and knocked and received no answer. “Where in Middle-Earth are you, Bilbo Baggins?”

“If you're looking for Bilbo, sir, he's not home.”

Gandalf turned to see a younger hobbit male looking over the fence. “Do you know where he is?”

“He left yesterday, late morning, for Rivendell. He'll not be back for several months at the very least. Said most likely a year or more, depending on his studies. He's learning healing with the elves and he said he missed his friends there and all. Wants to spend some time with them. Even said he might have to go to Lothlórien for training, but he didn't know just yet.”

Gandalf sighed heavily. “Well isn't that terrific?” 

He wondered if they could possibly catch up to Bilbo in Bree or if they would have to go all the way to Rivendell. He would prefer to catch up. If anything, he wanted to give the dwarves a good chance to get to know their hobbit burglar before difficulties inevitably reared their ugly heads.

On the other hand, it might make it easier to get Thorin to Rivendell, if he knew the burglar they needed was there, where they needed Elrond to read the bloody map anyway. He knew there was something he wasn't seeing on it, but he wasn't well-versed in that sort of thing. It was just convincing Thorin they  _ needed  _ to go, and he really could be a stubborn arse when he wanted.

“Thank you, Master Hobbit,” Gandalf said to him and he made his way back down to the inn, where the dwarves save Thorin were waiting.

“What did you find out, Gandalf?” Balin asked him as soon as he arrived.

“Apparently our burglar has gone off on his own adventure without us,” Gandalf said and laughed a little. “He's headed towards Rivendell.”

Glóin frowned at him. “I thought you said the hobbit was going on this quest with us. Why in the world would he have left without us and made plans elsewhere on top of it?”

“Well, I may have overstated his acceptance,” Gandalf said as he lit his pipe. “I'm entirely certain he would have agreed, but when I was here to speak to him earlier in the month, he wasn't home. I came here yesterday, but again he wasn't here. I just found out that he'd left just yesterday morning. It's likely I passed him on the road and didn't realize it, since I wasn't looking for him.” That and he had no real idea of what Bilbo looked like at fifty instead of five.

“Oh, well, that's grand,” Dwalin said. “We've got no burglar and Thorin's not here yet. We got no hope of catching up if Thorin doesn't arrive soon.”

“Not to worry, Master Dwarf. I'm sure everything will work out alright in the end. We can't do much until Thorin arrives, so you should rest and perhaps go into the markets here and purchase some goods. I would suggest sending Fíli, Kíli, Dori, and Ori. They're likely to be the most well-received, due to their age and their ability to...well...”

“Not act like they're about to come down on the Hobbits with a hammer, an ax, and a war cry?” Nori said, sounding amused.

“Yes, just so. Hobbits can be a rather suspicious lot, since Big Folk as they call them have often taken advantage of them or abused their good nature in times past. They’re friendly enough once they get used to you, but they’re leery of folk they don’t know. 

“Hobbiton, of course, is more used to having dwarves in their company because of its location on the East Road. Dwarves often stop here for trade and to buy what the Shire produces so you four shouldn’t have any problems interacting since you’re the least inclined to have visible weapons than, say, Dwalin. Balin wouldn’t have issues either, but he seems to be a bit busy right now.”

Fíli snorted. “Come on, Kíli. You too, Ori and Dori. Let's go and see if we can get better deals on foodstuffs than we were offered in Mannish towns.”

“Anything's gotta be better than  _ that _ ,” Kíli said as he got up and followed his brother out, Ori and Dori heading out behind them.

“And what if we don't find this Bilbo Baggins?” Dwalin asked Gandalf once the others were gone. “What if we miss him, or he doesn't end up going to Rivendell where we could find him? What're we gonna do about a burglar, since you seem so dead set on us needin' one?”

Gandalf puffed on his pipe for a few moments. “I'll have to think on that,” he murmured around it, throwing a brief glare in Dwalin's direction when the dwarf snorted and walked out of the inn.

~*~

Thorin reached the Green Dragon Inn late in the afternoon after getting an early start. Much to his regret, Bilbo had left not ten minutes before he'd arrived in the dining area, so he'd not been able to see the hobbit off on his journey.

More's the pity because Bilbo truly was adorable and fun to talk to. He’d enjoyed himself more and relaxed better around Bilbo than he had in a really long time. Thorin hoped they'd cross paths again at some point because he’d like to strike up a friendship with him. And that didn’t happen to Thorin often, as he thought most people weren’t worth the effort.

Nothing seemed amiss around the inn so his people hadn't wreaked some sort of unholy havoc on the locals. And there were no bonfires burning with his company being roasted on spits, so the tension eased fully. He loved his family and friends, and he was fond enough of those he didn't know all that well, but he also knew their flaws and getting more than a few of his kin together in unknown places was just asking for trouble. Especially when other races were involved.

He slipped inside and smiled a little when he saw Fíli and Kíli sitting at a table with Dori, Ori, and Balin. All of them were looking over some pieces of parchment and not paying any attention to the door. Considering where they were, he couldn’t fault them for the lack of attention. He strode over and tugged on Fíli's braid.

Fíli looked up at him and grinned. “Thorin! We were wondering when you'd get here. Did you get lost? Did you have to be rescued by a brave hobbit lass? Did you cry as you thanked her profusely for saving you from your above-ground ineptitude?”

Thorin rolled his eyes at his ridiculous nephew. “I was a little delayed before I even got to the Shire. I was  _ fine  _ inside it. All I had to do was follow the East Road, so how lost could I possibly get? What's going on here?”

“Looking over the supply lists,” Balin said. “Hobbits are much easier on the purse strings than Men are when it comes to selling to us.”

Kili nodded. “And they create foods specific for traveling, which they pointed us to when we told them we had a long trip ahead of us. We've been able to get quite a bit more than we would have been able to elsewhere, even from Bree. And it’s specially packaged to last a long time.”

“That's good to know. Have you met our hobbit companion yet?” Thorin asked as he took off his travel cloak and slipped it on the back of the empty chair. 

Kíli snorted. “Master Baggins isn’t  _ here _ . Apparently he's trotted off to Rivendell, because he didn't actually know he was supposed to go with us.”

Dori sighed heavily. “Gandalf never actually spoke to him. He wasn't at home when Gandalf came through that first time.”

“Wonderful.” Then Thorin frowned when the name Rivendell triggered a remembrance. “What did you say his name was?”

“Baggins. Bilbo Baggins. He left just yesterday, right before Gandalf got here.”

Thorin snorted and then laughed outright. “Yes, I know  _ exactly  _ who you’re talking about. I met Bilbo at a tavern close to the White Stag Inn, where we both stayed last night. He's gone to Rivendell to resume his healing training. He spoke a little about it, mentioned an interest, actually, in studying with a Dwarven Healer once he finishes his studies with Lord Elrond.”

“Bilbo's gone to Rivendell?!”

Thorin turned to see two attractive hobbits glaring in his direction. “Yes, so he said last night. Is something amiss?”

“Besides the fact that he's gone off  _ again  _ without us?” one of them said, hands dropping onto his hips as he puffed up with indignation. “We should send Grandma Adamanta after him to give him another lecture.”

Thorin pressed his lips together briefly. He had a good idea who these two were as Bilbo had told him many stories about the mischief he’d got up to with them over the years. It had him in tears of laughter many times the night before. “Then you are Flambard and Adalgrim Took?”

“We are. I'm Flambard, and he's Adalgrim. And you are?” Flambard said as they sauntered up to the group. 

“Thorin Oakenshield. My nephews, Fíli and Kíli. And that's Dori, Ori, and Balin, my Chief Advisor.” 

“And what were you wanting with our cousin?” Adalgrim asked, peering at him suspiciously. 

“He was to be a member of my company,” Thorin said, not bothered in the least by the scrutiny. It was like a five-week-old kitten was attempting to intimidate him. “But he apparently left before he was aware we were coming here.”

Fíli hummed and tilted his head as he stared at the two hobbits thoughtfully. “Maybe we should take them instead? They're related to Bilbo, so that has to count for something. They're apparently as adventurous as he is.”

Flambard snorted. “There's no one more adventurous than Mr. Bilbo 'trots off with elves to throw rings into a volcano' Baggins, but that's not because we refused. He just...”

“Flitted off without us,” Adalgrim said, sounding completely put out. “So what is it you wanted with him exactly? If I’m going to get into some sort of shenanigans, I’d like to at least be well informed beforehand. Makes prepping for idiocy easier that way.”

Thorin tilted his head, wondering if he should trust these two with their quest. Bilbo trusted them, and for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, he trusted Bilbo's word and opinion of them. “It's not something I would speak of openly. It's a sensitive matter not to be spoken of idly in case gossip should reach the wrong ears.”

“Ooh, intrigue,” Flambard said, leaning against the edge of the table and flashing him a grin of unholy glee, the kind he'd often seen on his nephews when they were up to something. It sent a little shiver down his spine. Good rarely came from that expression in Thorin’s experience. “There has to be someplace private where we can talk.”

“We can use our rooms,” Fíli piped in, his expression matching Flambard's. Now Thorin was really worried. “Provided, of course, you explain the throwing rings into volcanoes thing because now  _ I'm _ curious.”

“I am as well,” Kíli said. “Why would anyone go through all that trouble?”

“Then let's get moving, because the longer we linger, the more distance there is between us and Bilbo,” Adalgrim said, shooing them out of their seats, much to Thorin's amusement. 

Balin appeared amused as well since he took the parchments Kíli and Fíli were looking over with no fuss. “Dori, Ori, and I will continue with our lists. Have fun with  _ that _ .”

Thorin shot him a rude gesture and managed to grab his things before Adalgrim herded them to the back, which he found hilarious since he had at least a foot over the hobbit, outweighed him by a good amount, no doubt, and had more than a century on him in age. But he had noticed that Hobbits tended to be a bossy, somewhat fussy lot in his limited interactions. Bilbo had fussed over him more than a few times in the short hours they'd been together. So had the pub owner once he realized that Thorin wasn’t going to bite his head off about it.

Kíli flopped down next to Fíli on one of the beds. “So, the volcano thing?”

Flambard snorted. “When he was with the elves the last time, he decided to go to Lothlórien with a small group. While he was on the way with his entourage, he fell down a hole in the Misty Mountains—don't ask me how, it's  _ Bilbo _ —and he found a ring down there. He'd been doing some studying about obscure things in Rivendell, apparently, and with some experimentation discovered it was the One Ring. Well, he, Glorfindel, and  _ all three _ of Elrond's children decided to take care of it themselves, trotted off to Mordor, and threw it in the fires of Mount Doom.”

Adalgrim huffed. “We're just bloody lucky that the Valar were paying attention to what they were doing and Manwë sent his bloody eagles to rescue them from their own stupidity. Because all of Mordor just blew sky high and then fell into a dirty great pit from what we heard.”

“I'm surprised Elrond's letting him back in Rivendell,” Flambard said with a sniff. “You'd think he'd prefer as few of the troublemakers getting together in one place as possible.”

“Last I heard, Arwen at least was still in Lothlórien.” Adalgrim shrugged. “Maybe she was the chief instigator and he thinks it's safe.”

“Not bloody likely,” Flambard muttered. “You've  _ met  _ Elrohir and Elladan, haven't you? Look like Elrond, have that serious natural expression that just asks one to give them a reason to fight, but then they open their mouths and they’re  _ just like us _ .”

Thorin was more entertained than he rightly should be, considering how horrified he was at the thought of that small hobbit he'd just met last night going off to Mordor of all places. “Perhaps you would be interested in our proposition since your main complaint about him going to Mordor was that you didn't get to go with him. Gandalf is highly insistent on Bilbo being the one to come with us, and I'm sure that we can either catch up with him or find him in Rivendell, but I wouldn't be too opposed to taking eager adventurers such as yourselves along...”

He could feel Fíli and Kíli staring at him like he was growing a second head, which was fair because they knew him so well, but he hardly cared if he didn't seem to be acting like himself. He was stubborn but he wasn't an idiot. Thorin knew they needed help from someone and he wasn't getting it from his own bloody kin. Plus, he'd spent some hours speaking with Bilbo without any kind of preconceived notions, and added with the little he'd just heard from his cousins, Thorin knew that Bilbo had both the mettle and the heart for a quest such as theirs. Bilbo Baggins might be on the small side, but he was mighty and wasn't a coward. No one could be and do what he'd done.

Added to that, Fíli kept throwing looks at Adalgrim like a dehydrated dwarf looks at ale. He'd seen that  _ exact _ look on Dís' face the first time she saw Víli. If Adalgrim wasn't his nephew's One, he'd eat his sword. And Bofur's hat. And all of Ori's blasted knitting. Not that he was going to tell Fíli because if he didn’t figure it out on his own, it could be high entertainment. Thorin had to find his fun wherever he could.

“And just what is it we'd be agreeing to?” Adalgrim asked, and Thorin noted he kept glancing at Fíli as well. 

Flambard was looking at his cousin, appearing highly amused, before he gave Thorin a look that said Flambard agreed with his mental assessment of the situation. “Yes, I'd like to know as well. Like Adalgrim here, if I'm going to do something stupid and ill-conceived, I at least like to know what it is I'm agreeing to before jumping in with both feet.”

“Over a century and a half ago, a dragon came down on our home, Erebor. We were unprepared and he attacked. Only a fraction of our people were able to escape. We eventually made a home in the Blue Mountains, but we've not done well there. At this point we're barely comfortable, meaning that we're not starving or without a roof over our heads, but we're not thriving like we should be. The Blue Mountains aren't going to be able to house us for much longer. No more than another year at the most.”

“You mean to take back your home...from a bloody dragon,” Adalgrim said, sighing heavily. “What kind of dragon?”

Kíli frowned. “There's  _ different kinds _ ? Why didn't anyone tell me?”

“Because you personify the very definition of the word 'fascinated' when it comes to dragons, you ask so many questions,” Fíli retorted. “You are also  _ well-known _ for your research skills and willingness to tend to your studies extensively. Everyone thought you already knew everything there is to know about them.”

Adalgrim huffed a little laugh. “There are the Greater and Lesser Dragons. There are differences, some only by degrees and others by much greater.”

“Its name is Smaug. He's purportedly the last of the Greater Dragons,” Thorin said.

Flambard hummed. “I'd need to do a bit of research back at the Great Smials. All the information we have collected on dragons that’s not in Underhill is there. On the downside, the Greater Dragons are far more intelligent than the Lesser. They're bigger and are all fire-breathers, but in some ways the Lesser Dragons are far more aggressive to make up for their lack of size and intelligence. I do know the Greater have different vulnerabilities than the Lesser, but it's been a while since I studied them. At least fifteen years.”

“How far away are these Great Smials?” Thorin asked. 

“From here, a full day's ride on a pony or wagon if you start early enough and use the shortcuts we know. Two to three days on foot depending on how far you travel per day,” Adalgrim said. 

“It would be worth the few extra days if we can get more information on them,” Kíli said, turning to Thorin. “We need all the help we can get, and at the very least we’ll catch up with this Bilbo Baggins in Rivendell.”

“We may yet catch up with him earlier,” Adalgrim said. “If I know him, he’ll be stopping in Buckland today. He’ll not go to Rivendell without stopping by Aunt Mira’s and picking up the wares the elves purchase from them.”

“Not if he wants to live,” Flambard muttered.

“Exactly so,” Adalgrim said. “But it’s also Prim’s birthday tomorrow, so he’ll likely spend at least two or three days there.”

Flambard nodded. “I don’t think it would hurt to make the side trip. It would also give us both a chance to gather the proper travel bags we need. Plus we’ll be able to make sure we have everything we're going to need to make sure none of us starve to death. If your entire group goes with us, we know the shortcuts to shave off a few days getting from here to Bree. Not something I would recommend for non-hobbits on their own, but you'll be safe enough with us.”

Adalgrim made a face. “Shorter but I hate being that close to the bloody 'downs. We'll need to make sure we time it right to minimize the risk.”

“Risk?” Thorin asked. “And is it worth the shortcut?”

Adalgrim nodded. “The Barrow-downs are home to malevolent spirits of times past. They like to lure people in and kill them, but if you're aware of them and keep your wits about you, plus don't linger past dusk, we'll be safe enough. We'll make camp before we get to their borders and travel straight through the day, starting at first light.”

“Uncle Isengrim can make the charms we'll need to keep the horses from spooking,” Flambard said, pulling a lap desk out of his bag much to Thorin's shock, setting it up quickly and starting to make notes. “And we can have him tailor some to the dwarves so it'll help them resist the lure of the spirits and the suggestion that they need to bloody nap in the middle of them.”

Fíli snorted. “Now if there was just a surefire way to resist the lure of the _dragon_ _sickness_ , I'd be happy. Who knows what that dragon has done to the gold by now.”

Flambard snapped his fingers quickly as he peered off into the distance. “Gah! I can't remember but there might be something I read that could help,” he said, writing down more notes. “Doesn't hurt to check for any information.” He pulled his watch out of his pocket and checked it. “It's far too late to head toward Tuckborough today. We'll have to start first thing in the morning.”

“We'll make certain everyone is ready to leave by first light,” Thorin said. 

Adalgrim nodded. “I want to go over the supply lists your companions were working on.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you account for supplies beyond actually  _ getting  _ to Erebor?”

“No?” Kíli said, wincing a little. “All our focus was on getting ourselves there. And not being roasted for a dragon’s dinner.”

The expression on Adalgrim's face said he'd just now judged them and found them lacking. “We've got a lot of work to do, because honestly, how do you plan on surviving once you get the dragon  _ out _ ?” 

“My hope was our kin would aid us once we were successful,” Thorin admitted.

Fíli sighed. “Considering you arrived alone, I'm guessing they denied us aid now.”

“Dáin said that if we're successful he'd help us secure the mountain,” Thorin told him, rolling his eyes.

Kíli snorted. “Right. He'll help after the hard work is done and we'll have all that pretty, pretty gold to pay him handsomely for it. Greedy sod.”

Thorin would protest that assessment of Dáin if he didn't think the same of Dáin himself. In general he liked his cousin and he was a good enough Dwarf-lord and all to his people, but he wasn't exactly the most loyal to Thorin either. “Well, thanks to your great-grandfather, unless I have the Arkenstone in hand, they don't even view me as the rightful king of our people. They've made that abundantly clear over the years, especially after Azanulbizar. And they’ve proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt with the meeting I just had. Some of them didn’t even bother to show. They just sent  _ missives  _ which were nothing more than very polite ways of telling me to sod off.”

“That's what happens when you have your subjects swear their fealty to a rock,” Fíli said with clear distaste, “even if said rock is pretty.”

“I feel the same about it, but Thrór declared that being in possession of the Arkenstone is Mahal's divine proof of a dwarf's right to the throne,” Thorin told him. 

Flambard and Adalgrim looked at one another. “Where is the Arkenstone now?” Flambard asked.

“It's in Erebor,” Thorin said. “When I was dragging my grandfather out of the treasury where the dragon was swimming in the bloody gold by that point, he had it in hand, but he dropped it in all the chaos and it flew into the sea of gold that was being thrown around at the time. So it's somewhere currently in the treasury if Smaug didn't find it and do something else with it.”

Adalgrim's expression was incredulous. “Your people declare you have to have possession of the Arkenstone in order to be king, right? That only the one with the stone has the divine right of Mahal—which is utterly ridiculous by the way and I don't believe Aulë declared that for a second—to be the king of the Dwarves?”

Thorin nodded. “Yes.”

Flambard's eyebrows shot up. “And Smaug currently has possession?”

Kíli snorted again. “Technically, yes.”

“So has anyone ever pointed out to the disloyal twats that technically they're currently the subjects of a bloody dragon?” Adalgrim asked. “He's in possession of the bloody rock. He's the Dwarven king according to  _ their  _ logic.”

Thorin sighed as all four of them started laughing. “Right. Well, as amusing as you may find it, we still have to figure this all out. The dragon needs to go and we need to prepare for my people to return. Currently my brother Frerin and my sister Dís are in charge in the Blue Mountains.”

“Uncle Frerin isn't physically capable of the hardship of a quest like ours,” Kíli told them, apparently feeling the need to defend his uncle even though neither hobbit had so much as blinked. It was cute how protective Kíli could be of Frerin. “So he's going to lead the first caravan once we write to them. Amad will lead the final one.”

Adalgrim elbowed Flambard and pointed to the list. “We'll have limited time to get this lot properly kitted up and supplies gathered for the post-retaking of Erebor, so we can talk with Grandpa about gathering supplies for the caravans to bring.”

“We currently don't have those kinds of funds,” Thorin said, hating to admit it. It was galling that he couldn't afford what his people truly needed. Which was part of why this insane quest was needed in the first place.

Adalgrim waved him away. “All the Tooks are extremely solvent, and you can pay for them after you get your treasury back. I'll even have Grandpa keep a tally and send it with the final group so you can send back proper payment if it’ll ease your concerns. It won't hurt any of us to pay for them in advance. And if we all end up roasted under a dragon's flame, then who's gonna care?” Then he beamed at Thorin.

“I like him,” Fíli declared. “Can we keep him?”

Thorin stared at the ceiling and sighed. “Very well. Let's get to work.”


	2. Chapter 2

Bilbo hummed softly as he rolled through Buckland and up to Brandy Hall. A little out of his way, but he was hardly in any hurry. Besides, if he went to Rivendell without a big haul of hair products and soaps for the elves, he'd never hear the end of it from them  _ and  _ his aunt for cheating her out of the money the elves were willing to shell out for the Brandybucks' wares.

“Bilbo!” Primula Brandybuck trotted down the path from the hall as he halted his wagon.

“Hello, Prim!” he said, climbing down and catching her as she came in for a hug. “What are you up to this fine evening?”

“Finishing up the cake for my birthday tomorrow,” she said. “You'll stay, won't you? We're not having a big party or anything. I didn't want one, but I'm going to be twenty-one! You must stay to celebrate!” 

Bilbo laughed. “Yes, lass, I can stay. I need to pack up whatever your mother has for the elves anyway, and it'll give me time to sweet-talk your grandmother into making me some of her special, super-secret Brandybuck travel foods. She refuses to share the recipes with me. It hurts me terribly.” 

He sighed deeply even as he winked at Prim. He knew that Adaldrida was standing near the fence-line, having followed Primula out. 

“You Bagginses are always full of such drama,” Adaldrida said, but she pulled Bilbo into a hug and kissed both his cheeks. “But you're my favorite Baggins, so I suppose I could be bothered to dip into my stash to help an overdramatic hobbit out.”

“You are a treasure, 'drida, you really are.” He kissed her cheek. “I should see to my ponies.”

“Nonsense,” Uncle Gorbadoc said, walking over and clapping him on the shoulder. “I'll take care of that and have your bags brought inside. You go in and give Mirabella a proper hello. She's in the kitchen.”

“Yes, sir,” Bilbo said, slipping into the smial. He was stopped and greeted by several relations before he finally made it to the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway and blew out a breath. “Your family is exhausting.”

“Don't I know it,” Aunt Mira said, dusting off her hands. “Come and give me a hug, you mischief-maker.”

Bilbo laughed and walked over to give her a big hug, getting flour on himself. “It's good to see you, Aunt Mira. I'm heading to Rivendell and reckoned you'd need to send on some merchandise.” 

“That I do, lad. We've got an abundance of everything. A ridiculous amount, honestly,” Aunt Mira said, nudging him to the empty side of the table and quickly placing a mug of cider and a couple of blueberry muffins in front of him. “We'll be having supper in about an hour and a half.”

“Why do you have a ridiculous amount of it?” he asked curiously. “I cleared you out and sent on all the soaps and hair products to Rivendell with the Rangers a little over a year ago.”

“The youngest of your cousins have been practicing with their Earth Magics, particularly their ability to speed up the growing process and increase the size of the plants,” she told him as she went back to kneading the dough she was working. She gave him a look. “They were a bit overzealous and overeager in their first attempts.”

“Oh, no,” Bilbo said, laughing loudly. “What happened?”

“Let's see... We had a variety of squash the size of ponies, strawberries the size of chickens and turkeys... The cucumbers...” She huffed a laugh. “Luckily it wasn't an enormous plot of land, only five acres like we usually do for their training, but we planted a wide variety of plants for food and for our business. We didn't expect what we got. There were bloody sunflowers taller than the trees of the Old Forest! And I don't even want to talk about the rose bushes. The sugar beets and the potatoes...and the carrots.”

Bilbo shook his head as he laughed. “Oh, my. Usually it's not so bad. How did they manage it?” 

Aunt Mira shrugged. “I think it was a variety of things that just kind of came together and...boom! We've got plenty of canned, candied, pickled, and dried plant products, so much that it's ridiculous. Not to mention the oil that we rendered from them.”

Bilbo shrugged. “I could take whatever you want to send, see if the elves or anyone living in the East wants to purchase the excess, if not for themselves then to send with the Rangers when they ride through there. They do it often enough. And there are several farms between here and Rivendell.”

Aunt Mira sighed and gave him a grateful look. “I'd really appreciate that. We're overrun, and that's after making sure everyone in the family and all of Buckland got their pantries stuffed and we sent some to different farthings for the shops there through consignment. And we've still got a ton of it.”

“Well, get the travel bags and fill my wagon up.” Bilbo shrugged. “I'm not in a big rush or anything so if you need a couple of days, it'll just give Adaldrida time to get me properly kitted out with her travel foods.”

Aunt Mira laughed. “So what are your plans once you get to Rivendell?”

“I want to continue on with my healing training now that I'm completely recovered from the whole Ring debacle. I was doing really well until I found that bloody thing. Might go and try to find some ents, let them know the entwives are sleeping in the Old Forest.” 

“Be nice if they woke up and stopped the trees from causing the trouble they do,” Mira said. “What will you be studying with Lord Elrond?”

“We had just finished with Men and were onto the Dwarves, at least what he knows about healing them specifically. He wrote and says he has copies of everything for me all ready so that I can take them with me once I'm finished. He's done that with every race. I've got quite the collection. Even brought my healing library with me so I could do some brushing up while I'm traveling. I'm not planning on rushing.”

“Just don't wander too much and be careful,” Aunt Mira warned. “You never know what's lurking around out there.”

Bilbo made a face. “I know, I know. Orcs and wargs and trolls and wolves, and any number of things. I'll take care. I've got everything under control.”

“You should have had some of your cousins come along. I'm sure there's a Took or two who would have liked to go with.”

“Probably, but I wanted the solitude. I love our family, but they never shut up,” Bilbo said and laughed while Aunt Mira grinned at him.

~*~

Thorin sat on a bench in the gardens of the Great Smials and blew out a smoke ring, watching it drift over the flowers as it dissipated. It should probably chafe that they'd been there three days, but instead he found himself at peace in a way he hadn't been before. The whole Shire was peaceful, but there was something special about the lands of the Tooks. It set his mind and heart at ease.

“You alright, uncle?” Kíli asked as he sat down next to him. 

“Fine. Simply enjoying the leisure time we have. We don't get it often.”

Kíli shook his head. “No, we don't, but hopefully if we can get the mountain back, we'll be able to have some time now and again to ourselves.” 

“One can hope, but I fear that it will be years before we restore the mountain properly,” Thorin said. “But it doesn't mean we can't  _ make _ the time. Wouldn't want you and your brother to go mad before you trip over the century mark.”

“Funny,” Kíli said and blew out a breath as he slumped down and rested his head on the back of bench. “Balin, Ori, Isembard, and Isengrim are almost done with the research on the dragons and a few of the others are making copies for everyone, in case of losing a travel bag. All the charms we’ll need are finished.

“Adamanta and her entourage are almost done with the travel foods they were making to go with what we had, and with the gathering of supplies. All of our travel bags are kitted out with everything we need and the extra clothes Adamanta insisted upon are in the bags as well. Apparently she got the entire Tuckborough sewing circle together with the Ri brothers and they churned them out in a couple of days. Now we simply have to transfer what we brought with us into the bags.”

“And the new bows Gerontius insisted upon?”

“Done and strung. Mine was already mated to the magic they woke in us. Yours is in his office. He'll help you mate it to your magic.”

And wasn't that something? They actually had magic!  _ Real  _ magic, similar in power to the Hobbits but different from them and the Elves due to who their father was and their race’s preferences, but magic nonetheless. From what Gerontius found in the Hobbits' great library in Underhill, wherever that was, the magic of the Dwarrow had been suppressed with a curse by Morgoth and had long since been forgotten by their people. It hadn't been difficult for their Healers to figure out how to release it. The difficult part was going to be them learning to use it since there were no records of it in their limited libraries as far as he was aware, so they really didn't know what they could do or how to do it. 

“Gerontius said he'd have their library scoured for any information regarding Dwarven magic and send it with the caravans,” Thorin told him. “I already wrote to Dís and Frerin to inform them of everything. Óin wrote to two of those who apprenticed under him to come here and learn how to break the curse on the rest of our people.”

He clapped Kíli on the shoulder. “Our people will be far better prepared for travel than they would have been otherwise.” 

“I know and I'm glad for it,” Kíli replied. “I honestly don’t know what we would have done had we not come to the Shire.”

“Nor do I.” Thorin grimaced. “I suppose we have to be grateful to  _ Gandalf  _ for his meddling.”

Kíli laughed and nudged him with his shoulder. “A little ‘thank you’ won’t kill you.”

“It might,” Thorin muttered, smiling when Kíli snorted. “I suppose I’ll go now and retrieve my bow. My hope is that we’ll be able to leave in a day or two.”

Kíli stole his pipe and waved him off. “Tell Fíli where I am if he’s looking. Which he probably isn’t, because he’s likely mooning over Adalgrim again.”

Thorin snorted and walked back into the smial, smirking to himself when he caught sight of Fíli sitting next to Adalgrim in the study, doing more staring at the hobbit than working on whatever it was in front of him. 

He wound his way back to Gerontius’ office. The door was open but he knocked on the frame. 

Gerontius looked up and motioned to him. “Come in, Thorin. Kíli told you the bows were ready?” 

“He did,” Thorin said as he sat down. “He gave me the general rundown of what everyone was working on and how far along they were.” 

“You could probably leave tomorrow, but I’d give it another day to be sure and leave at dawn the day after. That way we can tie up any loose ends.” 

Thorin nodded. “It will also give Óin a little more time with your Healers. I know he was getting some lessons on how to use magic to aid in healing.”

“Yes, they’re doing what they can and supplying him with notes and such. Flambard knows the basics and Adalgrim has actually trained with the Healers though it’s not his strongest gift when it comes to our magics, but he’ll be able to continue to teach him. The Healers are fairly certain that Healing is Óin’s strength. He just needs to be trained up properly.”

“It’s good to know we’ll have extra people on hand who can help him in case of multiple injuries,” Thorin said. “Which, considering our quest, is a distinct possibility.”

“They’ll do what they can to shield all of you from the dangers, but the wild can be a dangerous place,” Gerontius said, walking over to the side table and picking up a bow. “Come over here and put on the quiver properly.”

Thorin did as he was told and looked to him once it was comfortably fitted on his person. He took the bow Gerontius offered.

“Now nock an arrow in place, and pull it like you’re going to fire and hold it,” he instructed.

Thorin did, finding the strength of the bow surprising because of it’s smaller size. “What’s the range on this?” 

“You’ll have to test it for your personal range, but for a hobbit the standard is about seventy-five yards because of the magic used when they’re made. Mated to your magic and using it innately while firing? It can triple to quadruple the range for a hobbit. We’ve never outfitted Dwarves with our bows before. Perhaps you and Kíli can test them out on the nearby archery range.”

“I’d like to do that, get a feel for it.”

“I’ll give you directions. Now just hold that position for a few more moments,” Gerontius said and he did something that prodded the magic that he could feel stirring within him, and suddenly he felt his magic surge to the surface and a fiery glow emanated around him, surrounding the bow as well. 

It lasted perhaps thirty seconds before it dissipated, and he relaxed his stance when Gerontius nodded. “It feels like it’s a part of me,” he said as he stared at the bow in his hands. 

“It is, in a way,” Gerontius said. “Any weapon you imbue with your own magic will feel the same way, and it will be difficult for another to handle it properly if you do not wish it. An enemy will find it near impossible to handle, and if they can it will be with a great deal of pain.”

“It’s a terrible thing to have one’s own weapon used against them. Do you think we’ll be able to do the same with the weapons we currently carry?”

“We should be able to,” Gerontius said. “Have your companions bring them tomorrow and we’ll do so, and I’ll teach you how to do it on your own, in case you pick another up as you travel or when you reach your destination.”

~*~

A few days later they were at the edge of the place the hobbits called the Barrow-downs. They’d broken camp at the first light of dawn, having rested about an hour from the ‘downs, as their hobbits refused to go any closer at night. It was light enough to see but all there was to see was a thick layer of fog. 

“Oh, this is cheery,” Bofur said next to Thorin. “Is it going to be safe going through it like this?”

Adalgrim nodded. “Yes, the danger mostly lies in the inner part of the ‘downs. We’re on the outskirts, between them and the Old Forest. Neither are particularly safe, but with the charms you wear, they won’t be able to sway you into resting where you shouldn’t. The spirits here lure people into sleeping during the day and keeping them that way until dusk, when they come out of their graves. They cannot stand the sunlight.”

“It will take all day to cross the area at a good clip, so we need to go,” Flambard said. “Adalgrim, you lead. I’ll take the rear.”

Adalgrim nodded and set his pony into motion. Thorin followed behind him and trusted the rest of his company to fall into line. 

Gradually the sun burned off the worst of the fog by mid-morning, though mist remained in the dips between mounds, giving the lands an eerie feel. They stopped only a few times, long enough to give the horses a rest, and on the third Thorin frowned as he looked out over the ‘downs. 

“I hear a low humming. Sounds like music.”

“It’s the barrow-wights, the malevolent spirits,” Flambard said. “They’re attempting to lure you in, but between your magic and the charms, it’s keeping them from affecting you. If you didn’t have either and came through here, you’d be lulled into falling into a deep sleep, and when you woke up, you’d find yourself underground in their tunnels, never to be seen again.”

Adalgrim smirked. “The few times we’ve had enemies attempt to infiltrate, we’ve nudged them toward the ‘downs. It’s the least of what they deserve, to be honest, for trying to conquer a peaceful folk that largely mind their own business.”

“If one wants to make war, one has to expect they may die in the attempt,” Balin replied. “How much longer until we leave this place behind? It makes me extremely uneasy.”

“Another four hours and we’ll reach the other side. I’d suggest we keep moving for another hour after that,” Flambard said. “Something for which I’ll be grateful because keeping my magic constantly active is tiring.”

“Why is it active?” Ori asked. 

“Protection against the ‘downs. We don’t use the charms, so our magic actively repels the spirits.”

Kíli hummed. “Do you think we’ll find Bilbo in Bree?” he asked, clearly wanting the subject changed. He seemed more uncomfortable than most, as did Fíli. Thorin thought it was because of their age. They were the youngest of all the dwarrow by fifty years. 

“It’s possible,” Adalgrim said. “It all depends on how much time he spent in Buckland, and how long he spends in Bree. If he stayed for shopping or trade, it’s likely. That usually takes him a good few days.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Ori said. “I have so many questions.”

“Don’t we all,” Fíli muttered. “When can we leave? I don’t like sitting here. I feel watched.”

“So do I, but it’s not coming from the mounds,” Dwalin said. “I feel it from the forest.”

Adalgrim snorted. “That could be any number of things. There are the Entwives, who are tree shepherds of Yavanna. They’re the least likely because they spend most of their time sleeping as of late.”

“There are the trees themselves,” Flambard added. “They’re aware in a way that most trees aren’t in the world, and these are often angry and malevolent for some reason. No idea why, though.”

“Oh, that’s comforting,” Nori said.

Flambard threw a grin in Nori’s direction. “Or it could be Tom Bombadil is watching us.”

“Who the blazes is Tom Bombadil?” Dwalin asked, turning away from the forest.

“No one is rightly sure who or what he is,” Adalgrim said. “He looks similar to a Man, but he’s not one. Nothing at all seems to faze him, and he lives in a forest even Elves often avoid if they can. He’s got a wife named Goldberry or something and she’s just as enigmatic as he is. They’ve been there forever, it seems. Certainly since we arrived in the Shire over a millennia ago.”

“Do you lot talk with him often?” Thorin asked.

“No,” Flambard said. “He’ll pop out occasionally, and a few times he’s invited hobbits to his home over the centuries. We have records of him and we all know he’s in there, but interaction is at a minimum. And he’s notorious for ignoring or deflecting questions.” He shrugged. “None of us really bother with him, as the only thing he really does for anyone is get them out of a spot of trouble with the trees if they waylay anyone dumb enough to go through there.”

“He doesn’t bother with the world otherwise,” Adalgrim said. “I have better things to do with my time than bother about him. But so long as you don’t bother him, he’s harmless.”

Fíli sent an indulgent smile Adalgrim’s way, one so besotted that Thorin snorted even as he looked away. He caught Gandalf’s eye and rolled his own, eliciting a chuckle from the wizard.

Thorin shook his head. His nephew was ridiculous and adorable, something an eighty-two-year-old dwarf shouldn’t be. “Let’s get on our way,” he said to the rest. “I’d like to put this place behind us as quickly as we can.”

~*~

Thorin did his best to hide his amusement as Glóin huffed behind him yet again. Since they’d left the ‘downs the day before, Fíli had been particularly chatty and had taken to divulging what some of the more traditional dwarrow considered secrets of their people, telling stories and histories that some would say were best kept to their people. He was also teaching both Adalgrim and Flambard bits of their language.

A grave error in judgment, to be sure, if Thorin didn’t know for a fact that Adalgrim was Fíli’s One. It couldn’t be anything else. And these two hobbits, in particular, were more deserving to be let in on a few harmless ‘secrets’ than most he knew. 

“Aren’t you going to do anything about that?” Glóin hissed at him. 

“Nope,” Thorin said, laughing when Glóin growled at him. He leaned closer and whispered, “Adalgrim is Fíli’s One, Glóin.”

“What? Really?” Glóin tilted his head. “Well, that puts a different spin on things. But what about the other?”

“His first cousin, who seems to be attached to him as closely as Kíli and Fíli are to one another? The one who is helping us get back our home when none of our kin could bother?”

Glóin huffed. “Well, I guess when ye put it that way.” Then he blinked. “Wait, does Fíli know?”

Thorin snorted and shrugged. “I have no idea, but he hasn’t said anything to me as of yet. And from the way Kíli is reacting, I’d have to say no.” 

“Shouldn’t someone give him a hint?”

“Kíli’s given him several without outright saying it. He’s too besotted to pay attention, I imagine.” Thorin shrugged and grinned. “I suspect he’ll catch on sooner or later.”

“I imagine he will.” He tilted his head. “Now that I think on it, he reminds me a lot of your sister when she first met her Víli.”

“Same expression,” Thorin agreed. “And it took her a couple of months to realize it. We Durins can be a bit slow on the uptake when it comes to our Ones.”

“Hah! Speak for yourself, laddie. I knew my Aldís was it the moment I met her.”

Thorin gave him a look. “I am older than you, you know. By several decades. Why do you persist on calling me ‘laddie’?”

“Because in spite of you being the eldest, you don’t look much older than your bloody nephews. Those damnable Durin genetics. And I’m talking about the ones that come straight from Durin. Because he was just as pretty and young lookin’ as you lot.” 

“You have the right of that,” Balin said. “I went white by the time I was sixty-five. Too far removed from the direct line. Bloody unfair if you ask me.”

Thorin smirked and casually flipped his hair back, laughing when his horse did the same. 

“You’re an arsehole, Thorin, my king or not,” Balin groused. “I have half a mind to snatch your hair right off your head. I’m twenty-one years younger than you, for Mahal’s sake.”

“At least you’ve got the impressive beard to make up for it. Mine is nowhere near as grand,” Thorin said, smiling wider when Balin glared at him.

“It would be if you didn’t bloody trim it all the time. Stop trying to make me feel better, Thorin. It’s not working.” He shrugged. “At least I’m smarter than you and have more common sense.”

“So you say,” Thorin said somberly, laughing when Balin threw an apple at his head. He caught it and bit into it, smirking at his friend as he chewed.

“So bloody impossible.”

Dori hummed. “Do you think the Dwarf-lords will kick up a fuss about a non-dwarf for a Prince Consort?” he asked as they continued to watch Fíli and Adalgrim interact.

“I think I don’t have any fucks to give on that matter,” Thorin said. “They threw away their rights to have any say in how I run things long ago when they abandoned our people for richer settlements, and those who live in those other communities before Erebor’s fall have all but ignored our plight since Azanulbizar.

“My asking for their aid was, in all honesty, the last test. None of them have shown any true loyalty to the crown. I couldn’t care less what they think about who marries into our line and who will be the future King Consort. They can kiss my arse.”

“Hear, hear,” Bofur said cheerfully from behind them. “Who needs ‘em anyway? We have our people from the Blue Mountains, we have our hobbity allies, and we got our bloody magic back. I say we bare our arses to the lot of them when they come running.”

“You do that,” Thorin said while the others around them laughed. He shook his head when Fíli and Adalgrim turned around to look at them, clearly confused, and he just waved them off. 

Gandalf pulled up next to him. “You truly don’t have issue with it?” he asked. He jerked his head in Fíli’s direction when Thorin looked at him with confusion.

“Ah. No, I don’t. I may have reservations about it if I thought they couldn’t handle what life is going to be like until we’ve settled into Erebor and restored much of it, but from listening to them, I think they’ll not only handle it better than most, but they’ll also contribute in ways that are essential across the board. I’d worry if they were soft and helpless, but they’re hardly that. Their cousin proved that he’s made of mithril. Not many could face down Mordor and toss away the ultimate ring of power without so much as a blink.”

“No, they couldn’t,” Gandalf said. “I was quite surprised to hear of it. I knew it had been destroyed, but I knew not until we were in Tuckborough that he had done so. It’s an amazing feat for anyone, let alone one so small.”

“Small but mighty and fierce,” Thorin murmured. Then he laughed when Óin punched his brother in the arm for some perceived slight and nearly sent Glóin off his horse. “Behave and act your age, you two.”

“I’m not doing anything!” Kíli called back.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Thorin said, “for once.”

Kíli turned his head and stuck his tongue out at Thorin, then kicked his horse into a trot to catch up with Flambard.

The rest of the trip to Bree was spent in amicable conversation and sporadic bouts of teasing, and by the time dusk started to settle in they were passing through the gates of the town. 

Once they’d stabled their ponies, they headed to the Prancing Pony, where Flambard immediately hopped up on a platform that seemed to be specially for the hobbits. “Hello, Mr. Butterbur!”

“Ah, young Flambard. What brings you to Bree?” he asked, looking behind him. “And with quite an entourage. Adalgrim, is that you back there, lad?”

“It is!” Adalgrim called out and waved. 

“Just heading out to see some of the world,” Flambard said cheerfully. “This lot is heading toward the Iron Hills and agreed to escort us about the East since they’re heading in that direction. We could use rooms for the night if you have them.”

“I do indeed,” Butterbur said. “All three of the rooms for smaller folk are empty, as is one of the nearby regular-sized rooms, for your tall, grey friend there.”

“We’ll take the lot then,” Adalgrim said, “and put it on the Took tab. Grandpa Gerontius is sending funds with Uncle Gorbadoc when he heads here in a month for trade.”

“Not a problem, lad. I know your family is good for it,” he replied as he wrote it down. “Will you be putting your meals on the tab as well?”

“Yes, for tonight and in the morning. We’re only staying the one night.”

Butterbur nodded. “It’s too bad you lot weren’t here a day earlier. Your cousin Bilbo left for Rivendell yesterday afternoon. He was travelin’ alone. Probably coulda done with some companionship.”

Flambard snorted. “That figures. Perhaps we’ll catch up with him on the road. We’ll have to see,” he said, taking the keys Butterbur offered. 

“Perhaps, if he dawdles,” Butterbur agreed. “Now, are you lot ready to eat or are you going to wait a bit?” 

Thorin looked around at the others. “I think we could eat now. It’s been some time since lunch.”

Butterbur nodded. “I’ll have some of the lads help me put together a set of tables for you lot, if you want to go ahead and put your things away in your rooms and freshen up.”

“Thank you, Mr Butterbur,” Flambard said and he led the way to the rooms. “I can’t believe we missed Bilbo by a bloody day and a half!”

Thorin huffed a laugh. “Do you honestly think we’ll catch up?”

“Not likely.” Flambard sighed. “We were planning to do some hunting to add to our stores, so that’s going to slow us up by a few days, no doubt. He’ll not do the same as he’ll have no need.”

“I guess then we’ll have to catch up with him in Rivendell.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bilbo sighed in relief and relaxed completely when he caught sight of the series of buildings and gardens that made up the Last Homely House of Lord Elrond. 

“Mae govannen, Master Baggins,” Lindir said as he met him on that side of the bridge. “How was your trip?”

“Fine. Mostly uneventful, with the exception of running into three rather idiotic trolls. They’re only so much stone now, so we don’t have to worry about them.” He hopped down and handed over the reins to the waiting stableman. “I’m glad to be here, though. I think I underestimated how lonely it would be traveling by myself.”

And it had been. He missed having someone to complain to, or discuss his healing texts with. He should have asked Adalgrim and Flambard to come with him. They could have kept his mind on track and off the blasted dwarf that had somehow burrowed under his skin to make himself right at home. It made studying difficult to say the least when any mention of Dwarves brought up a memory of Thorin and his kind, beautiful smile and his deep, throaty rumble of a laugh. 

And here he was, doing it again. Fantastic. What was it about that damn dwarf that was so compelling?

“Well, you’re here now,” Lindir said, “and I am most curious to hear about these trolls, but for now, Elrond is waiting for you in his office. He has guests currently from the Greenwood.”

“Please tell me it’s not Thranduil,” Bilbo said. “Last time I met him, I nearly punched him right in the face. How someone who is that beautiful can be that much of a pain in the arse is beyond me.”

“Years of practice,” Lindir said dryly. “But no, he has not made the trip. His son, Legolas, however, has. He brought a few others with him. They’re still having issues with spiders within the realm. They’re slowly dwindling their numbers, but they have not been able to find their nesting grounds.”

“Giant spiders that try to eat you. Always a fun time,” Bilbo said and sighed. “Well, take me to them, I suppose. You can get that lot to the house?”

“Yes, though why you needed to bring so much is beyond me,” Lindir said before calling out instructions to the waiting elves. 

“Not all for me. Much of it is from Buckland. Thanks to a happy growing mishap, they had an abundance of various wares and they sent them with me. We can discuss the details later.”

Lindir tilted his head in agreement and the two chatted amicably about the latest Rivendell gossip while they wound their way through the halls, until they reached Elrond’s office. 

Lindir knocked and then opened the door when Elrond indicated. “My lord, Master Baggins is here.”

“Send him in, please.” 

Lindir stepped back and motioned for Bilbo to head in. He smiled when he found Elrond at the big table near the windows. Elrohir and Elladan were sitting with him, as were Legolas and Tauriel. 

“Hello, Elrond,” Bilbo said, walking over and hugging him when he knelt down to Bilbo’s level.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, my friend,” Elrond said. “I hope you had an uneventful, pleasant trip.”

Bilbo snorted and greeted his friends before sitting down. “As I told Lindir earlier, I discovered three mountain trolls had settled in nearby.” He frowned. “They killed the family that lived in that farm near the Trollshaws. The house was burnt out.”

“Do I need to send out people to take care of them?” Elrond asked.

Bilbo shook his head. “I was able to use a combination of goading them and poisoning them to slow them down long enough to miss the sun coming up until it was too late. I just...that poor family. It’s terrible that they had to die like that.

“I did pick up a few interesting things from their hoard, though.” He rubbed his face. “So, what’s going on here?”

“I have an interesting proposition for you,” Elrond said. “With the destruction of Sauron, Greenwood is returning to what it was and the darkness is broken.”

“Though we are still having some spider trouble,” Legolas said, sounding put out about it. 

“It is getting better,” Tauriel assured him and smiled.

“But with the break in the darkness, apparently many couples celebrated as often as possible,” Elrond said dryly. “Because Thranduil’s realm is hosting a baby boom the likes of which we have not seen in an Elven realm in quite some time.”

“Really?” Bilbo said, eyebrows shooting up. “How many are expecting?”

“Twenty-seven of our women,” Legolas said, “including one of my sisters and a sister-in-law.”

“As you can probably expect, Thranduil has no idea what to do with himself,” Elrond said with a laugh. “Two grandchildren on the way and twenty-five others walking around in various stages of pregnancy.”

“Nothing I have ever recalled seeing before,” Elrohir said. “Usually there is no more than one pregnant in Rivendell at one time.” 

“So what’s this to do with me?” Bilbo asked.

Elrond answered. “Thranduil is asking for additional Healers to settle in his realm for the duration of the pregnancies, so his own Healers can have help on hand. He fears multiple going into labor close together or complications that his Healers may not be equipped to handle. His population has been stagnant for some time, and many of his Healers are young as the elder ones have left for other areas or for Valinor.”

“We knew you were to arrive,” Elladan said, “so we thought you might like to travel with us to gain practical experience with Healing of this sort. All peoples other than Hobbits give birth to living children.”

Elrohir snorted. “Not all of us are so lucky to be able to plant our children and grow them in the ground.”

“That’s because Yavanna and Mahal did things right for once when they made us,” Bilbo said and sniffed.

Legolas laughed. “Please do come, Bilbo. Father is driving me spare. I could use the companionship, and the entertainment of you going head to head with my father is sure to brighten all of our realm.”

“Oh, that is always fun,” Tauriel said and laughed. “King Thranduil hardly knows what to do with himself when he has breached Bilbo’s tolerance level and he gets soundly berated for it.”

“Well, if he would learn to not be such a snot, I wouldn’t have to tell him off,” Bilbo said and sighed when they laughed. “So, practical experience and tiny, pretty babies to cuddle? Count me in.”

Elrond smiled at him. “Excellent. I will provide you with the books I had duplicated for you, as well as the study guides and workbooks I made for your lessons. You’ll be able to work through them when you’re not busy, so that when you return you’ll have done much of your studies and we’ll go through more practical work.”

“Brilliant. I look forward to it.” He clapped his hands. “Now, Buckland and my aunt in particular had a bit of an issue as of late.” He explained briefly about the mishap with the growing, which elicited much amusement among the elves. “So I offered to take the excess and bring it with me to sell. I was able to sell some to the farms I passed along the way and to merchants in a couple of the towns along the Road. I still have an outrageous amount. I thought you might like to keep some of it on hand for the Rangers when they pass through these parts.”

Elrond nodded. “We can certainly do that. What all did you bring?”

Bilbo snorted. “What didn’t I bring? I have hair products, soaps, candles, scented sachets for chests of drawers and wardrobes, and perfumes. I have foods of various types. If it was grown and could be candied, dried, powdered, pickled, canned, or made into oils and teas, I have it. Sunflowers taller than the trees of the Old Forest, Elrond.”

Elrond laughed. “Well, I suppose we can call their attempts a success. They grew it all  _ successfully _ , if not within the expected parameters.”

“I can’t even imagine some of it, but I did get to see the impromptu orchards, since they kept those intact. Enormous trees,” Bilbo said, shaking his head. “I’m honestly surprised I didn’t hear about it beforehand, but I don’t always pay attention to what’s going on around the Shire anyway, so…” He shrugged. “At any rate, I’ve got lots.”

“I’m sure we could use some of what you have in Greenwood,” Legolas said.

“I’m sure the people in and around Lake-town could as well,” Tauriel added. “The Master there is a terrible person and taxes them dreadfully to fill their coffers. They often do without the smallest of luxuries.”

Elrond nodded. “Agreed. They would likely benefit, and the Shire is quite reasonable with their prices.”

“The same cannot be said of Lake-town, at least not for most of the people. It is a hard existence there.”

“I would be more than happy to do trade with the people there,” Bilbo said. “The people, not this Master person.” He huffed. “Are there no other towns near there?”

“Nay,” Legolas said. “The city of Dale has long been abandoned. It was burned in part when the dragon Smaug came and sacked Erebor, driving out both the dwarves there and the Men of Dale. The dragon still rests within the stone halls of Erebor.”

“So, your daddy just lets evil things rest in realms all around his without a care. A dragon in a nearby Dwarf-kingdom, the spectre of the Dark Lord in the south of his own bloody woods… Living with darkness engulfing his own realm, spiders dropping on top of you lot like you’re prey, living day-to-day until the dragon decides to get bored and burn your forest to the ground for kicks. Not a problem. Nothing to be worried about at all.”

“How would you propose we fight a dragon?” Tauriel asked dryly.

“There are ways. We have information in the Shire regarding dragons that we’ve collected over the years. I just didn’t know there was one currently resting in a Dwarven realm.”

Legolas quirked an eyebrow at Bilbo but didn’t say anything, as well he shouldn’t, since the last time he’d made disparaging comments against Dwarves in general, Bilbo had laid into him like a windmill in a storm. Both about the disparaging people he didn’t know in general, but also for parroting his father’s bigotry without even so much as figuring things out for himself. And for allowing ancient squabbles affect his perception of peoples who had absolutely nothing to do with those times, since the dwarves involved were long dead.

Bilbo gave him a squinty-eyed glare and then smiled and turned to Elrond. “Then why don’t you go through the things I brought and buy what you wish, and I’ll take the rest with us for Thranduil’s realm and those in and around Lake-town. Then I can bring back what I don’t sell.”

“Likely the best idea,” Elrond said. “Now, why don’t you go and freshen up before dinner? It shouldn’t be much longer, and you have to be hungry.”

“Starving,” Bilbo said, sliding off the chair. “See you lot later. I’m having a bath. I can still feel the troll on me.”

~*~

Thorin frowned as they approached a partially burned-out, partially smashed up house after a long day of riding. 

Kíli rode up next to him. “I wonder what happened here. Looks like it’s been awhile since it burned.”

“It’s not recent,” Thorin said as he slid off his pony and handed the reins over to Kíli. He stepped closer for a better look. “It looks to be at least a few months old, if not older.”

“It might be best to have a look around, see if anything is amiss nearby before we settle in for the night,” Gandalf advised as the rest dismounted.

Thorin nodded. “Kíli, you, Ori, Fíli, and Bifur get the horses tied up and settled in that small corral we passed. Check it first to make sure it’s secure. The rest of us can have a look around. No one go too far and whistle if you find anything.”

The group separated and Thorin slipped through the trees, looking for any sign of trouble. But nothing seemed amiss, and the birds were chirping away, while small forest animals skittered about. 

Several minutes later, a sharp whistle sounded out to his right and he headed that direction, stopping short when he reached a clearing and found three stone trolls. “What in Mahal’s name…”

Gandalf, who emerged from the other side of the clearing, whistled. “Whatever happened to them prior to the sun coming up, it wasn’t pleasant. They turned to stone while in a great deal of pain.”

Flambard, who was walking around one and studying it, suddenly snorted. “It was Bilbo.”

“What? How do you know?” Thorin asked as he strode towards him. 

“He left his calling card,” Flambard said, sounding highly amused. He pointed when Thorin came around the troll.

Thorin leaned forward and peered at the etching. “BB was here. May 2941. I did this. You are welcome.” Underneath was a bow and arrow with flowers. “What’s that mean?”

“Every hobbit has a symbol of sorts, so in certain situations one knows they were there. For Bilbo, the bow and arrow with belladonna flowers is his. You’ll find them in some incarnation when he leaves or sends messages while traveling. It’s so we know it’s actually him and he’s not in distress.”

Adalgrim peered over Flambard’s other shoulder and nodded. “If he was in distress, he would use a sword and poison ivy leaves.”

Bofur blinked. “So… You’re saying he did all of this,” he said, motioning to the trolls.

“Yes,” Adalgrim said without hesitation. “He liked the family that lived in that house. He would visit with them when he traveled to and from Rivendell. We all did. It’s very likely from the damage that these three did it, and Bilbo wouldn’t let that stand. He can be downright vicious when crossed.”

“How do you think he accomplished it?” Dwalin asked.

Thorin looked at their hobbits as well, because he was curious how a single hobbit could best three enormous mountain trolls.

“If it were me?” Flambard said, and he looked at Adalgrim, the two having a conversation using only facial expressions. “I would do something that would irritate them enough to get them from the fire, double back, and put poison in whatever it was they were cooking in that pot. Then I’d keep them distracted enough to let the poison cook into it, and then let them settle back in. Then I’d sit back and watch, distract them again if need be so they wouldn’t notice the rising sun until it was too late. But considering their positions, they likely were too sick to notice anyway.”

Thorin nodded as he walked around and looked at the three trolls. The one who had Bilbo’s missive etched into his arse was on his side, his face showing he was in a great deal of agony. Another was lying on his back, which was arched, clearly in some sort of death throes. The third was still on his feet but he was contorted and his hands were frozen over his head. 

“Remind me not to get on his bad side,” Balin said to him as he walked by.

Thorin snorted in agreement. “I wonder where they rested during the day. If they took to waylaying people or brought their hoard with them, we might find something useful within.”

The group spread out again and several minutes later another whistle sounded and they convened at the opening of a cave.

“Oh, that stinks,” Flambard said, making a face. 

“That’s downright horrid,” Balin said, making the same face. “I’m not going in there. I’m heading back to camp to inform the rest and get it set up. You lot have fun.” 

Flambard, Adalgrim, Bombur, and Dori went with him, while a few elected to remain nearby in case they were needed.

Thorin girded himself and went inside along with Glóin, Gandalf, Dwalin, and Bofur. He let his eyes refocus in the darker atmosphere and then looked around. “Glóin, you lot pick up the gold on the ground. We’ll take it with us in case we need it along the way.”

“Aye,” Glóin said. “We’ll take it back to camp and clean it. Then we’ll divide it up. No use packing it away and making our bags stink like troll cave.”

Thorin nodded and moved through the caves. “It’s been disturbed.”

“Bilbo likely found it while he was here,” Gandalf murmured. Then he hummed as he pulled a couple of swords in scabbards out of a group leaning against the wall. He slid one out and examined it. “Interesting.”

“What is?” Thorin prodded when Gandalf went silent. 

“It’s of Elvish make, but not recent. This is from Gondolin. Some of the best swordsmiths were in Gondolin at the time.” He handed it to Thorin. “It will be of great use to you. It won’t rust, won’t dull, and it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby.”

“It is useful, and better than the one I currently use,” he said, making a face at the cobwebs clinging to it. “I’ll clean the scabbard at the camp.”

Gandalf hummed in agreement. “This one could be of great use for me. I wonder if there are any the others can use.”

“Kíli and Fíli in particular could use better swords,” Thorin admitted. They simply didn’t have the appropriate materials to make truly formidable weapons, but they did well with what they had access to in the Blue Mountains. 

Another half hour of searching unearthed three more high quality Elvish swords though they weren’t of the same calibre of the first two, seven knives of various sizes, and two Dwarvish axes and a warhammer that were in excellent condition.

When they returned, the found Bombur and the hobbits talking over options for dinner while Fíli and Kíli set up the fire. Fíli looked up at him. “There’s a stream about half a mile away for fresh water. Glóin, Oin, Nori, and Bifur went down to get water to clean the coins.”

Thorin nodded and held up the two swords he’d selected for them. “They don’t need to be sharpened, but they could use some cleaning, particularly the scabbards.”

Fili took his and pulled it from the scabbard. “Oh, this is nice. Doesn’t have a speck of rust on it.” 

“Elvish blades don’t rust,” Gandalf said as he started making up his own space for the evening. “Nor do they dull, which I think is important on a quest such as this. Who knows what kind of trouble we’ll run into or when, and it’s best not to meet that trouble head on with a dull blade.”

“Thanks, Irak’Adad,” Fíli said, giving him a one-armed hug. 

Thorin returned it and kissed Fíli’s temple. “You’re welcome, Irakdashat. Now go poke at Adalgrim like I know you want to.”

Fíli flushed. “Shut up.”

Thorin chuckled at his nephew as Fíli wandered over to the area he and Kíli had claimed for their own for the evening, and then he proceeded to stake his own claim, planning on getting some good sleep since he wasn’t on watch that night.

~*~

“Rivendell! Yay!” Flambard called out as they rode over the bridge that led to a stable area. 

“A real bed, a real bathtub, and a roof over our heads. Double yay,” Adalgrim said. “Cold springs have never been my favorite bathing spots on the road.” 

“Can’t blame you there,” Bofur said. “They can do a real number on your tackle. I’d like for mine not to try to crawl up inside my body, thank you.”

Thorin just snorted at the lot of them as they came to a stop near the fence line. Not that he disagreed with them, but he preferred not to discuss the state of  _ his  _ tackle with just anyone.

“Flambard! Adalgrim! What are you two doing here?” An elf with dark hair and striking but extremely pleasing features walked up to them and quirked an eyebrow when he looked over their company, but he looked curious more than anything, so Thorin didn’t take offense. He’d be curious in the elf’s place as well, since Thorin was certain that Dwarrow weren’t everyday visitors to any Elven realm. 

“Hello, Erestor,” Flambard called back cheerfully. “We’re just travelling through the area and Gandalf had a question for Elrond.”

“Where are you traveling to, if you do not mind my curiosity?” 

Flambard looked to him and Thorin nodded his consent. It wasn’t something that was going to stay quiet, considering they were asking about a map of Erebor. “To Erebor. We’re helping out the Dwarrow with a little problem they’ve been having.”

“Little problem?” Erestor asked, tilting his head and frowning a little. But his eyes were bright and practically twinkling, so Thorin was sure Erestor knew what their goal was.

“There’s a dragon squatting in their mountain. We’re going to get it out,” Adalgrim said. 

Erestor snorted, loud and very un-Elvish-like. “Well, if it’s an attempt to outdo Bilbo, it’s a good one. Likely far more dangerous in some respects than his little trek into Mordor.” 

Then Erestor smiled and Kíli and Ori sighed softly on either side of Thorin. He barely refrained from rolling his eyes. His company. How he managed to get the oddest group together, he’d never know, but he was honestly grateful for it. 

“Everyone will be happy to see you,” Erestor said. “Elrond’s always happier when he has hobbits about to cheer up the place.”

“I’m sure Bilbo’s been doing his best,” Flambard said. “It’s difficult not to be entertained when he’s got a bug up his arse to create mischief and chaos. Especially if Elrohir and Elladan are involved.”

“Bilbo’s not here, though,” Erestor said, much to Thorin’s shock.

“He’s not!” Adalgrim squawked. “Where the blazes is he? He said he was coming  _ here _ !”

“He’s gone off to Thranduil’s realm.” Erestor laughed a little. “Apparently there is a baby boom occurring, so he went to get some practical experience with live births. He left with Legolas, Tauriel, and the twins yesterday morning.”

Thorin bit back a laugh when both hobbits heaved long-suffering sighs. “I am certain Lord Elrond will be happy to tell you both all about it once we have freshened up,” he told them soothingly. 

Because their hair was starting to puff up like it did any time they were annoyed, and the last time that happened on the road there was an explosion of plants from the ground. A sapling had literally sprouted up between his legs, far too close to his cock for comfort.

“Yes, I am sure he will,” Erestor said, and he called out in Sindarin to those near the stables. “They will take good care of your horses. If you will grab your things and follow me, I can show you to the guest suites. And then I will inform Lord Elrond that you are here. He and Glorfindel are currently in a meeting with Lindir.”

“Which translates as Lindir is attempting to work on the schedule for the next few months and they’re poking at him with a stick because while they may be thousands of years old, they’re also toddlers,” Adalgrim said dryly. “And they adore picking at him.”

Erestor nodded. “That would be accurate. But in their defense, Lindir makes it too easy for them. He is so fussy at times, and honestly I think he enjoys the attention. He’s so shy most of the time. Fussy and shy and adorable.” 

Flambard laughed. “He really is, but we all love him for it. He keeps everyone on task, and he’s a sweetheart.” He dismounted and hugged Erestor. “One of these days I’m going to stick him in a bag, take him back to the Shire, and let the family fuss all over him. He’ll love it.”

“He needs a holiday,” Erestor told Flambard. “If only to get away from Glorfindel and Elrond. Glorfindel is my husband and I love him, but he can be trying when he is bored. And as long-lived as we are, we have to find our fun somewhere.”

Thorin laughed silently at that as he removed the bags from his pony and slung them over his neck. Then he helped grab the bags from the pack ponies and soon enough they were trailing behind Erestor, who was still talking with Flambard, across the bridge and into the courtyard.

He ignored the odd looks he was getting from his companions. The elves weren’t the only ones who took their amusements where they could find them. 

“This is where you will be staying,” Erestor said as he opened the wide doors. 

They all stepped into a large circular room that had doors evenly spaced all around the walls. The rooms were decorated with a tasteful and homey feel, decidedly un-Elvish, and were clearly designed with smaller people than Elves or Men in mind.

Erestor pointed to the door on the opposite side. “That is the door to the outside entrance that leads down to the baths for this guest suite. Soaps, shampoos, and towels can be found in the wardrobes down there. The other doors all lead to rooms that have one or two beds. There is a shared toilet between pairs of rooms. There is an entrance to it in each room.”

Erestor turned to Flambard and Adalgrim. “I expect you will wish to remain with your companions rather than occupy your usual rooms within Elrond’s wing?”

Adalgrim nodded. “We won’t be here all that long, and we’d rather stay with this lot. Promote unity and all that.”

Tilting his head, he gave them all another beautiful smile. “Then I will leave you to freshen up. I will have the kitchens send you some light fare to tide you over until dinner, which will be in a few hours. Take your time.”

“Thank you, Erestor,” Thorin said, giving the elf a slight bow and ignoring the intake of breaths around him. 

“You are most welcome, Thorin, son of Thráin.” He grinned at Thorin’s surprise. “I met you once when you were around six months old. Elrond visited Erebor and I was one of his party. Your mother, Marís, was quite proud to show off her firstborn and allow the greatest of the Elven Healers to make sure you were hale and hearty, and I was privileged enough to be allowed to hold you. You chewed on my hair the entire time, much to your father’s amusement.”

“I never knew that,” Thorin murmured. “I’m surprised you knew who I was since I was so young.”

“Even then you had piercing blue eyes, like pale sapphires, and an old soul shined from within. I can still see that young boy within the Dwarf-king you’ve become.” Erestor smiled softly. “For what it is worth to you, I am certain your father would be extremely proud of you. He loved you a great deal and the pride he had in you was so strong it was like another person in the room. I cannot imagine that his pride would be any less now.”

“Thank you,” Thorin said, watching as Erestor nodded and then left. Then he cleared his throat. “I call dibs on a room with a single bed.”

The others snorted and let him be. For which he was grateful, because he was feeling things about his family he hadn’t felt in some time. That it was an elf who made him feel these things was a little disconcerting, but he was nevertheless grateful for it.

He really did miss his father.


	4. Chapter 4

After breakfast the next morning, the Company split up to accomplish different tasks. Óin had trotted off with some of the Healers who both wanted to have a look at his ears to see if they could help with his hearing issues, and for him to add to his healing skills and begin to learn to use his magic in his healing.

Kíli had gone to the archery range with some of Elrond’s archers. They were teaching him to improve his accuracy, utilize his magic to make his shots even more deadly, and to teach him how to imbue the arrows he made with his magic. And likely a few other things, but Kíli’s excited screech had temporarily deafened him in one ear so Thorin missed whatever else was discussed.

Dwalin, Glóin, Nori, and Bifur decided meetings weren’t for them and had gone to look over the training grounds, intent on improving Flambard and Adalgrim’s fighting abilities. Bombur was in the kitchens, happier than a dwarf in a jewel mine, doing whatever it was he did in a kitchen. 

Cooking was never Thorin’s strong point.

Bofur had gone off with another elf who worked with wood, and was learning how he could incorporate his magic into one of his crafts. Dori had left with an elf to talk plants of all things. Granted, it was for tea, which was a favorite of Dori’s, but still. Plants. Thorin found it positively baffling.

That left Thorin in the meeting with the elves, along with the two hobbits, Fíli, Balin, Ori, and Gandalf. 

Elrond looked down at the parchment in front of him. “The map can be read three nights from now. That gives us a few days to work on everything else before you may have to adjust your plans or timeline.”

He looked over at Thorin. “I have the librarians currently pulling all the books we have on Dwarven magic. Fortunately, Durin II had the foresight to send copies of his people’s lore to me for safe-keeping. He feared that his people’s histories, their great crafts and knowledge of the magic that was diminishing within them would be lost if he didn’t. He rightly guessed that Morgoth and Sauron had discovered a way to gradually suppress Dwarven magic and make them forget they had it. I brought the books here when I founded Imladris in the Second Age. Though we had tried, the Elves could not find a way to stop the suppression. I am glad that the Hobbits were capable of it.” 

Thorin blew out a shaky breath. “Our people’s knowledge has been here the entire time? After we lost it time after time?”

“Not all, but certainly a good amount,” Elrond said. “I have one librarian who is capable of utilizing his magic to copy books provided he has the appropriate materials. We’ll be sorting in order of importance to your current circumstances and we’ll complete the copies of the most important before you leave, since it is a time-consuming and magic-consuming craft. We will create and send the copies of the rest once you’ve reclaimed Erebor.”

“We greatly appreciate that,” Balin said. “I look forward to seeing what you have that we’ve not seen before. So much has been lost with the loss of our homes time after time.”

Elrond nodded. “I know that I have copies of the crafting and personal journals of every incarnation of Durin. They always send me copies of their journals for safe-keeping, since Durin II started the tradition by sending his and those of Durin I.”

Ori picked up his parchment and fanned his face. “I feel faint at the very thought of reading those.”

“Put your head between your legs,” Fíli said absently, clearly thinking. “All the old crafts...we may be able to recreate them now. The lanterns and crystals they used to light our cities with, perhaps the lifts that we once created for easier transport. The ones used in Dwarf-realms now are nothing compared to what was reputed to be in Khazad-dum.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I remember them. They were  _ glorious _ . Smooth and safe and when I was there still imbued with Dwarvish magic. They had carriages that ran on tracks and transported people to and from different parts of the mountains for easier and quicker travel. I remember the great lanterns as well. And that was just what I saw for the brief time I visited. The Dwarrowdelf was a beautiful city in its prime.”

Flambard nodded. “Too bad about the Balrog infestation.”

Glorfindel winced. “Can we not talk about Balrogs? My delicate sensibilities are still wounded because that Balrog killed me that one time.”

“We can talk about the orc infestation instead,” Adalgrim offered, giving Glorfindel a sharp smile.

“How about we stop talking about Moria altogether,” Elrond said dryly. “It’s a sensitive subject for many reasons and is not our current issue.”

“I agree,” Gandalf said. “Whether it is permanently lost to the Dwarves or not remains to be seen, but we already have enough tasks in front of us without worrying over it or what may be living inside it.”

Thorin got back to the task at hand. “Whatever you can send with us now, we will be grateful for. I agree, the most important tomes will be anything on learning to utilize our magic. We’ll have time for crafts and the writings of our ancestors later.”

“The most pressing need is how to take care of the dragon,” Erestor said. “Hobbit magic will certainly be beneficial, but I have to wonder if Dwarrow of old had ways of killing dragons. I know I’ve read of them doing such a thing from time to time when dragons attacked. And our own books may have something as well.”

“Again, it likely was lost with the loss of their magic,” Lindir replied. “I think those of us who can read Khuzdul need to skim through the books and see what we can find.” He sat back. “I cannot, so I will be of no help.”

Elrond looked at Glorfindel and Erestor. “The three of us are fluent. We can help with that.” 

That actually didn’t surprise Thorin in the least. He knew they were thousands of years old and many Elves once had an amicable relationship with the Dwarrow. And if the Durin incarnations trusted Elrond enough to place their greatest treasures in his keeping…

“I can as well, of course,” Gandalf said. “Aulë himself taught me the language before I arrived. He thought it would be of use to me.”

Thorin nodded. “We would appreciate it. I can help with research along with Ori and Balin. Fíli, I want you and Kíli to help Flambard and Adalgrim hone their skills both with their new blades and with their archery. Dwalin will be helping with that as well.”

Flambard looked amused but nodded. “We could both use some practice at taking out moving targets.”

Fíli nodded. “We can do that, and I think everyone can use some time sparring. We haven’t done much while traveling.”

Elrond spoke up. “My Healers want to look at that ax in Bifur’s head. I don’t know that they’ll be able to remove it before you leave, but they might have an idea of whether or not it can be done at this point.”

“Bilbo’s an exceptional Healer,” Adalgrim said. “He’s actually had experience with injuries such as that. It’s the age of it that may be a stumbling point, though.”

“I’ll make sure they write up a report on their examination,” Elrond said. “Those of us doing research should head to the library after lunch. Once we have the information we need with regards to dragons, we’ll meet again and come up with a plan combining both the hobbit information and whatever we have.”

They broke up the meeting and Fíli, Ori, and Balin followed him as he headed toward the training grounds. 

“I’m surprised you’re being so reasonable about this,” Balin said. “You’re not one to deal with Elves with any kind of grace.”

“If it were two months ago, I would have agreed with that wholeheartedly and likely would have been a complete arsehole to the elves here,” Thorin said as he leaned against a wall. The corridor and the gardens across from them were empty, so it was an ideal place to have a conversation. 

“I can’t say I will interact with Thranduil with anything but contempt. I understand why he did not come to our aid when the dragon attacked. His realm is over a week’s travel at a hard ride for long days. He’d have never made it in time to aid us or Dale with the dragon.

“But he never came to our aid. We had many who had anywhere from minor to major injuries. We had virtually nothing. I know you don’t remember. You were but three years old at the time, and none of the others here were born in the mountain. Some of our people were able to escape via the garden terraces to the east, and they brought what supplies they could carry, but with several thousand, it was nothing compared to what we needed.”

“He was supposed to be our ally, and he abandoned us in our time of need.” Thorin sighed and dropped his head back against the wall, looking at the roof of the walkway. “I know Thrór was gold-mad and at the end of our time in Erebor he was almost cruel to our allies. So I could understand why Thranduil would not want to aid Thrór himself. But our people were not responsible for Thrór’s madness or behavior, and they didn’t deserve the suffering and death that could have been alleviated with initial aid.” 

“And the elves here?” Fíli asked.

“They helped rid Middle-Earth of the One Ring. If Sauron had recovered it, it would have been the end of Middle-Earth as we know it. They risked their lives to help a small hobbit destroy it. 

“They also help the Hobbits without hesitation. They teach them and clearly care a great deal for them. They are not as cold-hearted as I presumed because of Thranduil. I let my interactions with him color my view of all Elves, and that’s not fair. Elrond and his people have been amicable and willing to aid us since we arrived. They’ve not treated us with disdain, nor have they dismissed our plight as unimportant. They want to help us.”

He sighed. “I cannot stand in the face of all this, I cannot have sat there and listened to Bilbo, Flambard, Adalgrim, and the other Hobbits’ stories of their dealings with Elrond’s people and not been unmoved or unchanged. I may be stubborn, but I  _ can  _ learn.” Thorin smirked. “It helped, of course, that my preconceived notions regarding Hobbits were destroyed almost as soon as I started talking to one. It opened my eyes to my own idiocy.”

Ori hummed. “Makes sense to me. Hobbits are great. These elves aren’t so bad either. They have good food, even the green things.”

Thorin and the others laughed. When it died down, Thorin pushed away from the wall. “Let’s go and bother Dwalin and get in some practice before we numb our arses for hours while researching.”

~*~

Two days later, the group reconvened with their dragon research.

Elrond passed around sheets of information written in Westron. “From what I was able to glean from the various books and scrolls, the Great Dragons all have a single  _ true  _ weakness. There is  _ always  _ a scale missing on their underside. It’s often around the chest area, but is occasionally higher or lower.”

“How big will it be? Do we have any idea?” Balin asked. 

“It depends on how big the dragon is,” Elrond said. “The bigger the dragon, the bigger the missing scale. It grows in size along with it. I...don’t think Smaug was full-grown when he invaded.”

“I don’t think he was,” Thorin admitted. “I was in the mountain when he came. My siblings and my mother were out near the forest at the time, and they later said it was enormous even from a distance. I can only imagine how big he is now.”

“What were they doing out there?” Fíli asked. 

Thorin answered, since they rarely talked of that time. “Dís had wanted to go berry picking and they indulged her. There were blackberry bushes in that area and it was something she enjoyed doing. We were grateful for it, because they likely would have been deep in the mountain without a way out otherwise.

“We met up with them and made it to our people who managed to escape. But from what I saw of him initially, he wasn’t as large as I would have expected a full-grown dragon to be. But he was big enough, fast as lightning, and spewing fire everywhere.”

Elrond nodded. “The missing scale is their most vulnerable area, outside the eyes and their mouth, if you can manage to get something in it before the dragon melts it away with its fire.

“They aren’t invulnerable to magic, which may be part of the reason that Sauron worked so hard at eradicating the ability for Dwarrow to use their own. It would make your people vulnerable to them, and he could control them when in his full power. It would have been a way to decimate strongholds and gain materials he may have wanted or needed.”

“Which makes figuring out our magic even more important,” Thorin said, sitting back. “We also found information on black arrows in one of the books, but it didn’t go into detail.”

“I found that information,” Erestor said, passing out sheets to the dwarrow. “This is the process to create them. Dwarrow make them using their magic. It makes them much stronger than a black arrow without it. Though it’s reputed that a black arrow without magic  _ can  _ be utilized. A regular arrow won’t kill a dragon, even if you hit them in their vulnerable spot. You might infuriate it though.”

Fíli looked at Thorin. “You’re the best blacksmith we have. You could make the arrows if we can figure out how to do the magic part.” 

Flambard nodded and looked to Elrond. “We’ve been helping them along the road as we can. They’ve learned to find it within them and bring it to the surface, but we don’t know much about their gifts.”

Glorfindel hummed and started searching through his own notes. “I found some information on the process of imbuing metalwork with Dwarvish magic and the different effects a dwarf’s intent has on its properties. I thought it might be useful if we could use a sword or some other metallic object on it.” 

Glorfindel passed it over to Balin, who made grabby hands at it. “We have a forge here. We can have Thorin work on a few pieces first and practice the technique using a different kind of intent we can study. The technique will be the same for the black arrows.”

Thorin nodded. “It would give me a feel for using it in my work as well.”

Lindir stood. “I’ll go and have the forges fired up. Do you have a list of supplies needed for the black arrows?”

“I do,” Erestor said and handed over a parchment. “Pull out extra of each from the vaults. Thorin should use the types of materials he’ll be using to make the arrows to get a feel for using his magic on them specifically.”

“Give me two hours to get everything ready, and then you can start your experiments,” Lindir said and walked out. 

“What is it, Thorin?” Ori asked Thorin.

Thorin looked up from the parchment he’d been frowning at. “I think I remember my grandfather making some of these when I was very young. I don’t believe they were the magical version, but I think they were a version of this. He used to sell them, but at some point he stopped. Likely because he sunk too deeply into madness.” He shrugged. “It’s not going to help us at all, but the memory just popped into my head.”

“The big problem is going to be getting Smaug to expose his vulnerability,” Gandalf said. 

“That, I think, is where our magic comes in,” Adalgrim said. “We can make plants grow, even temporarily in stone if we have earth and seed on top of it. If we can get him out of the treasury—”

“—you mean piss him off enough he chases us into another part of the mountain,” Flambard said.

“Yes, that. If we can get him off the gold and where we want him, we can toss seeds and soil onto the floors and use our magic to grow them. Hold him in place temporarily and distract him.”

“Dwarven magic can manipulate stone,” Glorfindel said, flipping through his notes. “Ah, yes, here. They can reshape it, cause it to grow into peaks of different sizes or create cracks and craters. It could be another form of temporary containment or distraction if you can learn how to do it.”

Thorin looked to Elrond. “Would you mind if we cleaved stone from your realm so we can begin to practice it?”

“By all means,” Elrond said. “There are tools for that in the shed. Erestor can show you where they are. Why don’t you have some of the others do that, and you can read up on the theory for the magic you’ll need to use and the instructions for the arrows?”

Thorin nodded and they all dispersed.

~*~

“‘Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s day will shine upon the keyhole’ is the exact wording according to Elrond,” Thorin told the company as they sat around the central room of the guest suite after dinner. 

“So we have to be at the secret door by sunset on the 19th of October,” Balin said. “It’s currently June 22nd, so we have plenty of time.”

“We do,” Thorin agreed, “but I do not wish to be idle. We can afford a couple more days to finish up with the arrows. Then I believe we should use the lower passes as Elrond suggested to get through the Misty Mountains."

“Why not the higher passes?” Glóin asked. “Aren’t they quicker?”

“They are, but they’re also goblin-infested,” Thorin replied. “Bilbo’s group took the lower passes as well, because there are also stone giants that have apparently taken up residence near the High Pass as well.”

“I don’t know what a stone giant is, but it doesn’t sound good,” Kíli said. “I vote we stay away from anything that’s giant-like. I’m too pretty to die or become a toy for a stone giant.”

“You?! I’m way prettier than you,” Adalgrim said with a scoff. “They’d probably leave you behind and take me away.” 

Kíli looked at Thorin. “He’s right. I vote for the High Pass.” 

Thorin laughed when Adalgrim squawked and threw an apple at Kíli. “Enough, you two. We’re not going through the High Pass, and for the record, I am the prettiest of this lot.”

Dwalin stared at him. “The lot of you are insane. Can we get back to the planning? I want sleep.”

“Yes, and we don’t want to deprive Dwalin of his beauty sleep,” Fíli said, grinning when Dwalin sent a rude gesture in his direction. 

Thorin sighed. “Everyone needs to finish up any projects, research, or training to be done here in the next two days. We will leave first thing in the morning on the third day from now.” 

“How is the arrow-making going?” Bofur asked as he munched on an apple slice. 

“I’ve got the design down perfectly, and I’ve been successful imbuing my magic with the metals I’ve worked with. Tomorrow we’re starting work on the actual arrows. I will be in the forges all day tomorrow and most of the next day, so I expect you lot to keep the chaos to the minimum. We’ve actually achieved an amicable relationship with Lord Elrond and his people, and I intend on keeping it that way.”

“So no breaking the furniture, no wrecking the kitchens, and no naked bathing in the fountains?” Bofur asked in his usual cheerful manner.

“I would much prefer you didn’t,” Thorin said dryly.

“Besides, if you offend Lindir’s delicate sensibilities, Elrond might be cross,” Adalgrim said. “And I don’t think he could handle all you dwarrow in your full glory. He really is extremely shy and the elves of Imladris shelter him a great deal.”

Flambard nodded. “He’s a scholar, not a warrior. He was born here, grew up here, and rarely leaves this land. He’s only about five hundred years old and he’s only known peace and safety in his life.”

“Hobbits have seen more hardship than him,” Adalgrim added. “He’s a gentle soul, so he doesn’t need to see what you lot got in your trousers flopping around in the breeze.”

Thorin dropped his head and laughed for several moments before looking up. “You lot know what you need to do. Now get some rest. I don’t want to delay any longer unless absolutely necessary.”

~*~

“Can we take him with us? I’ve really grown to adore the lad.”

Thorin glanced at Glóin and grinned. “I think Elrond might kill us if we steal Lindir away. He looks upon him like one of his own children.”

Glóin harrumphed and they continued watching as Lindir fussed over various members of the company, ensuring they had everything they needed and they hadn’t forgotten anything. It was honestly adorable, and he knew that Lindir was a good sort if he had burrowed under Glóin’s skin. Glóin was particularly tetchy when it came to Elves.

“I’m going to miss this place, and I’d never thought I’d say that about an Elvish realm,” Dwalin said as he walked up and used Thorin’s shoulder as an armrest. “It’s peaceful here. Safe.” He glanced over at Thorin. “Think we’ll be able to make Erebor feel that way?”

“I hope so. After everything we’ve been through, I think our people deserve it. At least Sauron is taken care of. Darkness lingers in the world, but we’ve got our magic back. We may be able to make ourselves a sanctuary.”

Thorin stepped away from them and walked over to his pony, and checked his saddle and the bags attached to it. Then he climbed onto the pony and settled fully on it.

Lindir walked up to him and held out a small package. “A second breakfast from the kitchens,” he said and grinned. “Hobbits always infect our chefs with their Hobbity ways when they come to Imladris.”

Thorin laughed and took the bundle, storing it in his personal travel bag. “Thank you, and thank them for me. When Erebor is reclaimed and we’ve cleaned it up a little, you’re welcome to come and visit whenever you please.”

Lindir smiled. “I would like that. Perhaps I will bring the books for your library myself.” 

“Ori would be thrilled,” Thorin told him. “He finds your company quite soothing.” 

Tilting his head in acceptance, Lindir stepped away and took another bundle over to Glóin, who proceeded to fuss over the elf and then pulled him into an actual bear hug, much to Thorin’s amusement. 

Thorin shook his head and laughed a little. “You best watch out,” he said as Elrond walked over. “Glóin may stuff him in a bag and take him home.”

“I am almost tempted to let him,” Elrond said. “I have not seen Lindir take to a group so easily as he did yours. But I will send him with the books when Erebor is ready for them. I think the trip would do him well. Be safe, Thorin, son of Thráin. If you need our aid, send word and we will come as swiftly as we can.”

“I will,” he said, bowing his head as Elrond moved back. He watched and waited for his company to mount their steeds and then he followed behind Glorfindel, who was escorting them to the Low Pass.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, by the Valar! What in Mordor is that  _ stench _ ?!” Flambard said as they traversed the foothills of the far side of the Misty Mountains. 

Their journey through the mountains had been uneventful and had given them ample opportunity to work on honing their stone shaping abilities. But it had been rather dull otherwise, with not even a hint of the goblin-infestation that lurked deep in the mountains. Fortunate, but unexciting.

“I don’t know, but it smells like death,” Dwalin said. “And it’s close by.”

“From the wind’s direction, it’s ahead of us,” Gandalf said. “We’re likely to ride straight into it.”

They continued along the path through the trees, many of them wrapping a cloth around their nose and mouth, though it didn’t help much. Soon enough, the reason for the stench opened up before them in a small clearing, which was full of carnage of the orc and warg variety.

Thorin’s attention focused on the orc corpse pinned to the tree with arrows directly across from him. “It  _ cannot  _ be.”

“Cannot be what?” Adalgrim asked as he made a face. “This is disgusting. Ugh.”

“ _ Azog _ ,” he said, his tone harsh. “Azog the Defiler. He was supposed to be dead!” 

“Clearly he wasn’t, but he certainly is now,” Flambard said as he led his horse over to the other side, picking his way around the strewn bodies.

Thorin stared at Azog, stunned and furious that the vile creature had been alive all these years, while Flambard leaned over and examined the arrows protruding from each eye. “What?” he asked when Flambard released a loud huff.

“Those are Bilbo’s arrows. Bilbo did that,” he said, pointing to the ones in the eyes and the one in the neck. “The ones in the body attaching him to the tree...those have to be Elrohir and Elladan’s. They’re the make of the Imladris elves.”

Adalgrim nodded and pointed to a different body. “Those are arrows made by the Silvan elves of Greenwood.”

“It’s rather up in the air who lopped off his little fork-hand thingy,” Flambard added.

Dori hummed. “Bilbo’s sign is over here, just like the one on the troll’s arse. There’s also a few other carvings.”

“Probably the elves. Bilbo is a bad influence,” Adalgrim replied.

“I was  _ certain  _ I killed that sod,” Thorin said, feeling put out as he continued to stare at the pale orc. 

Balin patted him on the shoulder. “All evidence is to the contrary, but it looks like Bilbo Baggins helped take care of that for you.”

Dwalin rode up next to him and smirked. “If this Bilbo was a dwarf, you might consider this a courting gesture. Not quite the head of your enemy on a pike, but close enough to count, in my estimation.”

Thorin couldn’t help but smirk at that. He really couldn’t wait to catch up to Bilbo so he could thank him properly for killing the monster that took his Grandfather’s head and killed his father.

He turned his attention back to Flambard, who was complaining to Adalgrim and he caught the tail end of his rant. “When we catch up with Bilbo, I’m going to shoot him in the arse with an arrow. Why does he get to have all the bloody fun?”

Adalgrim stared at his cousin like he was insane and then huffed. “Can we move on? It’s going to get dark soon and I don’t want to camp next to  _ this _ . I don’t want to be anywhere within stench-distance.”

Thorin nodded. “Yes, let’s continue on. We can go at least another hour before we have to stop. We’ll use some of the wood we have stored so we don’t have to look for any. It will give us more time to lengthen the distance between us and this.”

He stared at Azog as he passed and he smiled a little. He was definitely thanking Bilbo for that one. With his mouth and possibly his cock if Bilbo was amenable to it.

~*~

“Gandalf, are you  _ certain  _ you know where you’re going? Because all this winding through the foothills seems dubious to me. And completely unnecessary.”

Thorin grinned at the long-suffering sigh Gandalf released at Flambard’s query. In his opinion there was nothing more entertaining during their travels than watching the hobbits metaphorically poke at Gandalf with a stick. Which they did every chance they got. And Thorin had to admit he was impressed by the sheer level of patience Gandalf showed. He hadn’t even used his magic to spell them bald once, even if he threatened it more than a few times.

Gandalf turned and glared at Flambard, and Thorin swore the wizard’s eyebrows grew bushier as he did. “Yes, Flambard, I am quite certain of our path. When we come out, we will be near Beorn’s home and closer to the path we need to take through the forest. The Old Forest Road is still unpassable, though Thranduil’s people are working on reparations as they can.”

“If you say so,” Flambard said, looking completely unperturbed about having an irritated wizard eyeballing him.

“What do we know about this Beorn?” Thorin asked after a several minutes passed. 

“He is a shifter, a skin-changer,” Gandalf said. “His secondary form is that of a bear. He’s rather grumpy and suspicious, as he well should be living out here alone, but he’s a good sort.”

“Anything we need to know so as not to offend him?” Balin asked.

“He does not eat meat. He would not appreciate you doing so on his lands, as he has many beloved animals who reside there. So no hunting, cooking, or consuming it on his lands.” Gandalf hummed as he stroked his beard. “He’s one for a good tale, so a story is always welcome. And truthful stories are more appreciated, particularly if they’re told well.”

“See, now that’s why we need Bilbo,” Adalgrim said. “He’s always been the best of us at spinning a yarn that can keep even fauntlings entertained for great lengths of time. He could keep Beorn happy for days just telling him about our exploits.”

Thorin snorted. “I would have to agree with that. He had me laughing for hours at your antics. I cannot remember the last time I laughed so much.” He ignored the stares he could feel being burned into the back of his head. “You should regale this Beorn with your own versions. I’m sure you’ll do just as well. You’re both entertaining in your own right.”

Another two hours passed before they wound their way through two hills and came out near a bridge that arched over the river. 

As they crossed it, Dwalin asked, “How far is it to the path from here?” 

“About twenty-five miles. It is north of Beorn’s home,” Gandalf told him. “That path is the safest through the forest and passes the gates of Thranduil’s city before winding a bit north. It comes out of Greenwood onto the road that leads to Lake-town, which is in the southern half of Long Lake. Unfortunately the roads north towards Dale and Erebor disappeared long ago, being taken over again once more by nature.”

“Another thing to add to the long list of tasks once the mountain is ours again,” Balin said. “We’ll need it repaired for our caravans from the Blue Mountains and any trade caravans from the south.”

“Writing it down!” Ori called out from the back of their group. 

Thorin shared a look of amusement with Dwalin. It was cute how diligent Ori was with his apprenticeship to Balin for his second mastery. He’d mastered in tailoring, Thorin knew, for the family business and making a living, but being a Scribe was his true passion. Balin had been more than happy to take on Ori, as he’d not had an apprentice in many years.

Part of that apprenticeship was keeping a record of their quest so that he could write about it, and keeping track of all their business. Ori had been happier than a pig in mud when Flambard’s father had kitted him out with a full set of scribe’s tools and stocked him with everything he could possibly need, including a lap desk that he’d carved himself. 

Another hour saw them passing through a fence that led into an enormous garden area. Thorin couldn’t tell anyone what the patches of flowers were even if his life depended on it, but they were clearly for the enormous bees that buzzed about. 

One flew so close that his eyes crossed as he and it inspected one another for a few moments before it buzzed off again. 

“Those things are bigger than my bloody fist,” Dwalin said beside him.

“Impressive,” Thorin replied. “I’ve never actually seen bees that big before.”

“They’re very docile, so long as you don’t try to harm them,” Gandalf said. “All the animals, including the bees, are more intelligent than their counterparts you would find outside these lands. “If you try to harm them, they will attack, and it will hurt. And these bees do not lose their stingers the way normal bees do.”

“That sounds potentially painful,” Bofur said. “Everyone make note not to mess with the bees, because I’m not savin’ you if you’re a dumbarse.”

Thorin smirked and shook his head. “And treat all the animals with a great deal of respect. Remember this is their home, not ours.”

“In other words, treat them the way Dáin treats Sprinkles the...” Dwalin called out, then frowned and looked at Thorin. “What number is he on?”

“The one he has is Sprinkles the Fourth, unless he has died already. But he was young not all that long ago, so it’s still probably Sprinkles the Fourth.”

“What in the name of Yavanna is a Sprinkles, fourth or otherwise?” Adalgrim asked, sounding completely baffled.

“My cousin’s people keep, breed, and raise boars for battle and companionship. Sprinkles is my cousin Dáin’s battle boar. He’s named all his battle boars Sprinkles and just added a number to them as he goes along.”

“But… Sprinkles? Really?” Adalgrim asked, giving him a look of such incredulity that Thorin had to laugh. 

“He was sixty when he named the first,” Thorin said. “I don’t know why. He’s never explained his thought process, and honestly, I wasn’t ever certain I wanted to know.”

“Well, I’m asking when I meet the arsehole,” Flambard said. 

“Already decides he’s an arsehole, have you?” Glóin asked, sounding amused by it. 

“ _ Yes _ . He’s not here, is he? He’s not sent you any aid, has he?” Flambard asked. “He’s only willing to do so once you’ve taken care of the bloody dragon yourself and regained the mountain, hasn’t he? He’s an arsehole. And not the fun kind.”

“And who is the fun kind of arsehole?” Kíli asked him. 

“Bilbo. Adalgrim. Myself,” Flambard replied cheerfully. “Most of my family, honestly. We all come by it naturally.”

“Now that I would believe,” Nori called from behind them. 

“Hello, Gandalf!” a booming voice called out, catching all of their attention.

Thorin’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the enormous man striding toward them. He was huge, towering over even Gandalf, and he was broader than he and Dwalin standing side by side. He wore a sort of rustic shift that reached his knees. Which made sense to him, since Gandalf said the man shifted into a bear. He imagined wearing a bunch of clothing was rather problematic if he shifted often.

“Beorn, my friend! It’s good to see you,” Gandalf said as they halted. “I hope you don’t mind us passing through, perhaps staying for the night. We’re on our way to the forest path.”

Beorn reached out and stroked Gandalf’s horse when it nudged at him. “You are welcome to stay the night, and a few days if you wish for the rest. You just missed another party heading the same direction by two days.” 

He looked over Thorin’s company. “One of them was a hobbit, and the rest were elves, most from Thranduil’s realm, but a few from Rivendell. I quite liked the hobbit. Master Baggins told the most delightful stories.”

“I have heard he’s quite good at tales,” Gandalf replied. “May I present the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield. He is accompanied by several of his kin, as well as Flambard and Adalgrim Took, cousins of Master Baggins.”

Beorn grinned at them. “A pleasure! Come along now, and we’ll get your ponies settled in and have dinner. You can tell me all about your journey and perhaps a few more tales besides.”

With that Beorn strode off and started speaking in a language Thorin had never heard before and had no hope of understanding, but the animals nearby seemed to understand because they answered in their own natural sounds and took off, presumably to do whatever he asked of them.

“He’s more cheerful than I expected,” Dwalin murmured to him.

“He is, but that’s likely better for us. Clearly the previous party softened him up,” Thorin whispered back. “Whatever the reason, I’ll take it.”

“Five gold coins says that Flambard is going to start complaining about missing Bilbo again once we’re off the ponies.” 

Thorin snorted. “That’s a sucker’s bet, Dwalin. Look at him. His hair is already starting to puff out.”

“It’s cute how much they miss their cousin,” Dwalin said and grinned. “At least we know we’ll catch up to him at Thranduil’s. Which will soothe their ruffled feathers and then you can moon at Bilbo rather than the rest of us having to witness you falling for a hobbit you only talked to for a few hours months ago.”

“I feel like I know him, the way that those two and the elves speak of him,” Thorin said. “I’m simply eager to see him again and get to know him in person.”

Dwalin just gave him a look and slid off his pony when they stopped at a corral. 

Thorin ignored him and tended his pony as did the others, leaving them to graze as Beorn escorted them to the house in the distance. It was difficult to tell how big it was from the front view until they were inside. The decor was simple and rustic, but it was comfortable and the house was long and seemed to branch off, which they couldn’t see from the front because of the tree and bushes masking it.

“I have plenty of space for you to stay,” Beorn told them as he walked toward the back. “You’ll have to share rooms, but the beds are wide and can accommodate two or three to them. I’ll show you where you can bed down, where the baths are, and let you settle in while I get dinner on the table.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Gandalf said, patting Beorn on the shoulder. “It is much appreciated.”

“Yes, thank you,” Thorin said. 

Beorn nodded and pointed. “The door at the far end of this hall is the bathing room. The large tub in there is fed by the hot springs nearby. In the bathing room, off to the sides, are two doors. They lead to hallways that have outhouses at the end of them.

“The other eight doors are the bedrooms. All of these can be used by you and have linens that were freshly washed just yesterday. Please take your time.”

Thorin looked to the others when he left. “Gandalf, you can have one of the rooms to yourself. Flambard and Adalgrim can share one. Fíli and Kíli, you can stay with me. The rest of you split up the rooms as you see fit.”

Thorin walked into the nearest door and blinked at the sight of the bed. 

Kili whistled low. “That is one enormous bed. All of us could sprawl and still not touch one another. I call dibs on the middle!”

“Well, it wasn’t going to be me in the middle,” Thorin said as he set his bags down on a long padded bench on the left side of the room. “I don’t know about you two, but I could definitely use a bath before eating. It’s been too long.”

“Only a cold wash in the river,” Fíli said, grimacing as he opened his travel bag. “And it was bloody  _ cold _ .” 

Kíli nodded as he pulled out a bag. “It wasn’t pleasant. We need to do some laundry while we’re here too.”

“We’ll make sure everyone takes care of their own,” Thorin said, pulling out his own bag for dirty laundry. He used his magic to drag up the bag of clean clothing, pleased when it came right to him without any real effort on his part. His magic was getting easier to use as he practiced, even with such minor things as finding what he wanted from his bag.

Fíli bounced on the balls of his feet and grinned as he pulled out a bag. “I love having magic.”

Thorin laughed and nodded as he searched through his clean clothes for something comfortable to wear. The lands felt safe, so he wasn’t keen on dressing in travel clothes or any armor until they left. His nephews seemed to be of the same mind, and after they removed all but their underclothes, they padded down to the baths.

Inside they found Flambard and Adalgrim already there, soaking in the tub. Flambard pointed to an area to the side. “You can do a short scrub down there, getting rid of any grime from the road.”

Adalgrim nodded. “If you pull the chain, water will rain down from that grate above you. It’s pleasantly warm.”

“We left some soaps there for everyone to use, and some shampoo if you want to give your hair a quick scrub too. Ours was really dirty.”

“Thanks,” Thorin said as he put aside his clean clothes and dropped his bag of dirty underneath the bench that lined the walls, save the areas where the doors stood. Once he removed his beads and undid his braids, he stripped out of his remaining clothes and strode over to the area they’d indicated and pulled the chain, groaning in pleasure when warm water rained down on top of him and soaked his hair. “We need to design something like this for Erebor.”

“Yes! I second that!” Adalgrim said. “It’s fantastic, isn’t it?”

Thorin hummed his agreement as he scrubbed the grime from the days since their last bath in the river from his hair and body. He rinsed off and headed toward the bath, groaning when the hot water practically melted the soreness from the muscles. He closed his eyes and relaxed, barely aware of when his nephews joined them and struck up a conversation. 

He startled when he was poked and found Dwalin sitting next to him. “Might want to wash up again before you fall too deeply asleep in here.”

Thorin hummed, feeling pleasantly drowsy as he took a bottle from Bofur. He frowned. “Where are the hobbits and my nephews?” 

“They left about ten minutes ago. They didn’t have the heart to wake you, but I have,” Dwalin said. “Just told us to make sure you didn’t drown.”

“Funny,” Thorin murmured as he washed his hair again and went over his body once more before climbing out. Once he was dried off and dressed, he blinked as he realized his dirty clothes were gone. “Where…”

“Animals took ‘em,” Bofur said. “Beorn said they preferred to do it themselves, and they’d be most insulted if we didn’t let ‘em. Apparently they like feeling useful and helpful the rare times Beorn has guests.”

Thorin blinked again and shrugged. “If they say so…” He waved at the lot of them and headed to the bedroom, where he combed out his hair and then planted himself face-first on the bed and nodded off.

He groaned and snorted when he felt his nose being poked. Cracking one eye open, he glared at Fíli, who was grinning back at him. “What do you want, you menace?”

“It’s time for dinner. You’ve been sleeping for an hour and a half.” Fíli poked him again before straightening up. “Get up and I’ll help you put in your braids.”

Thorin winced at the stiffness in his body. “Bed is comfortable,” he said around a yawn as he scratched at his chest. 

“Clearly,” Fíli said as he brought over his beads and picked up the comb on the bedside table. “You were sleeping really deeply. I poked you five times before you roused.”

“Really comfortable,” he rumbled, smiling at Fíli when he laughed. He took the comb and started on his mastery braid while Fíli worked on the family braid. Fifteen minutes passed and all four braids were in and they headed out for dinner. 

While there was no meat, there was plenty of good food. The vegetables were delicious, so much so that Thorin was certain by the time they arrived in Erebor, Ori would be a vegetable convert, as he was the most finicky of all his companions. Not a lot was said until everyone, including Beorn, was sated.

When they were reduced to filling in the corners, Thorin turned to Beorn. “You said Bilbo left two days ago?”

“Yes. They were here for several days, but some of the elves from Greenwood arrived and said that Thranduil was beginning to fret because two of the elven-women had gone into labor earlier than they expected. The babes and the mothers were fine, but Thranduil wanted the Healers there as soon as possible.”

Flambard blew out a breath and made a face. “If only they had waited two more days to give birth, we could have caught up to the elven party.”

Nori snorted. “Yes, I’m sure that if the babes knew about your epic need to tell off your cousin for leaving you behind, they would have put off the joy of traveling down their mother’s birth canal so you could have your heartfelt reunion.”

Flambard made a face. “You lot have babies in such weird and disturbing ways.” 

Beorn blinked at him. “You lot have them in a different manner?”

“Yes,” Flambard said. “We create the seeds within ourselves and remove them with magic when it’s time. Then we Plant them in a special Garden and tend them daily until they Sprout from the ground.”

Beorn blinked at Flambard stupidly. “You mean to tell me you grow your children in the ground like a carrot? How fascinating.”

“We do,” Adalgrim confirmed. “It’s actually rather convenient, as we aren’t limited to male-female pairs to have children.”

Flambard nodded. “I have two fathers.”

“It also allows us to have large families,” Adalgrim said. “My dad was one of twelve children for Grandpa Gerontius. Aunt Mira has, what? Thirteen now?” he asked Adalgrim.

“Yeah, the twins Sprouted about three months before we left. She’d sent the announcement but hadn’t come to visit just yet. Something about dealing with a growth training mishap or something.”

“Thirteen children? So many,” Beorn said, sounding wistful.

Thorin could relate to that. The numbers the Hobbits were capable of was unheard of in his people. “We were shocked as well. We all were able to see the Gardens of various family members while we were in the Shire, and I was privileged enough to be present when one of the children Sprouted.”

He smiled a little. “It was honestly a beautiful and amazing moment, and watching the little girl pop out of the ground and announce to the world that she was Elliana was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Then she toddled over to her father squealing ‘Da! Da! Da!’ at him. I actually had tears in my eyes.”

Beorn’s eyebrows shot up. “They can talk?”

Flambard nodded. “They can walk...more toddle about but they’re mobile. It takes them some time to be able to run around full-tilt and create havoc, but they can walk. And they can speak some in the languages they hear while growing. Their vocabulary and ability to put together sentences is limited at Sprouting but grows by leaps and bounds over the next couple of years.”

“Well…” Beorn said, seemingly not knowing what to say. Finally, he said, “Where are you traveling to?” and the subject changed to their quest.


	6. Chapter 6

Five days later, they arrived at the path that would lead them through the woods the next morning, after taking a few days’ respite with Beorn, who had indeed enjoyed listening to all their tales. He’d even equipped them with a good amount of his honey for their stores at Erebor, as well as some bags of nuts.

“How long will it take for us to get through the woods?” Dori asked as he peered up at the trees with suspicion. Why, Thorin had no idea.

“With the clear path and the ponies, and with the dark magic broken and dissipated, no more than a week,” Gandalf told Dori, “if we keep to a steady pace on long days. Which would be for the best, because there are still spiders within.”

“They’re spiders,” Glóin grumbled next to him. “How bad could they be?”

“I hope we don’t find out,” Bombur said as he pulled the food bags off his pony. “I’ll get started on setting up for dinner.” 

“We’re out of Beorn’s lands, aren’t we?” Kíli asked as everyone looked to their tasks.

“We are,” Gandalf confirmed. “By over a day.”

“Good. Then we can see about hunting,” Kíli said.

“Good idea,” Thorin said. “I’d feel better if we had a bigger stock of meat for the winter months.”

Gandalf hummed his agreement. “The river is also a half mile that way,” he said, pointing to the left. “Fishing is reported to be excellent at this part of the river. I would suggest taking a lookout in case of any orc mischief, but they rarely come this close to the elven path or Beorn’s lands. Though they’re not his, he does patrol here often as part of an agreement with the elves.”

Adalgrim nodded and looked at Flambard. “You go with Kíli, and I’ll fish.”

“I’ll go fishing with you,” Fíli blurted out, blushing when Adalgrim beamed at him.

Óin snorted. “That boy has it bad,” he said, his voice low.

“He does, but it’s adorable,” Thorin murmured. “I think Adalgrim will be a fine addition to the family when Fíli gets himself together.” He tilted his head. “How are your ears?”

“Fantastic,” Óin said cheerfully. “The elves did a grand job getting them to work properly again. And I’ve finished with the potion they gave me to drop into my ears, so I should be good from now on. They also gave me the information on how to do it for others. I’m glad my gifts really do seem to run toward healing so I can help everyone. Hopefully Master Baggins will be able to help me with removing that ruddy ax from Bifur’s head.”

“I’m sure he will. Adalgrim said that once Bilbo sees it, it’ll likely drive him spare until he removes it,” Thorin said and laughed. 

“It drives  _ me _ spare but there was nothing I could do about it,” Óin groused. “I’m going to have a look around and see if I can find any more of that kingsfoil. I have the seeds for the hobbits to help me grow some, but I’d like as good a fresh supply as possible for the winter. Who knows what kinds of injuries I’ll have to deal with getting the mountain up and running.”

Thorin nodded. “Just be careful. I’ll take care of your pony. It will be getting dark sooner rather than later. You should go on ahead.”

“Thanks, Thorin.” 

He watched Óin walk over to Glóin and speak to him for a moment, and then the two walked off after Dwalin took Glóin’s reins from him. He smiled to himself as he tended the ponies. He had good people with him. 

After he finished with the ponies and everyone dispersed to tend to their tasks, Thorin decided to search for wood and kindling, both for the campfire and to add to their stores. He jumped half an hour later when Gandalf spoke behind him.

“You’re taking to the hobbits more easily than I’d hoped.” 

Thorin leaned against the tree he was near and then sat down at its base so he could add the wood he had stacked there to the bag. “What did you expect?”

“I expected that it would take some time to get you to warm up to...well, Bilbo Baggins, but it doesn’t change my expectations just because we have different hobbits. You were quite against any hobbits when we first talked.”

“I was,” he admitted. “I did not think them strong enough or to have enough heart for a journey such as this. I was under the impression, like many, that Hobbits never left their country and that they lived a soft life.”

He snapped a branch in half and slid both pieces into the bag. “I was wrong, I fully admit it. I, like most, underestimated and misunderstood them. There is far more to them than I ever thought possible in my own ignorance and arrogance, and I accept that I was an idiot for believing it.

“In many ways, they have more strength, more courage, more heart, and more loyalty than a majority of my own people. They helped me of their own choice when my people would not. They had no reason at all to do so, but Flambard and Adalgrim jumped in with both feet. Their family went above and beyond to help us. They gave us back what we lost so long ago that we didn’t even remember it.”

He looked up at Gandalf, who was looking at him with pride. “How could I do anything but accept them into my company with my whole heart?” He smirked a little then. “It does help, of course, that Adalgrim is clearly Fíli’s One.”

Gandalf chuckled around his pipe. “Does he realize it yet?”

“If he has, he hasn’t said as much to me,” Thorin said. “But he isn’t hiding the fact that he’s besotted with him, or at least not well if he’s actually trying to.”

Snorting, Gandalf titled his head in agreement. “Perhaps he thinks you won’t approve? He is currently your heir behind Frerin.”

“My primary heir, actually. I think Frerin might run away if he had to become king. He would have done it had Fíli been too young if something happened to me, but he doesn’t have the mindset to do it long-term unless he has no other choice. I think it’s both physical and mental, as well as his personality. It just all combines to make someone who wouldn’t do well if he wasn’t forced into the situation with all our deaths.”

“And Fíli doesn’t mind?”

“No, of course not. He’s not thrilled with the idea of being king anytime soon, which is understandable since he’s only eighty-two.” Thorin shrugged. “It could be he thinks I wouldn’t approve because they wouldn’t have full-dwarf children, but I honestly don’t care about that. I want him to love and be loved beyond anything else.”

Gandalf nodded and watched him for several minutes before speaking again. “You’ve taken quite an interest in Bilbo Baggins.”

“I met him at the inn.” Thorin smiled a little as he thought about that night. “I was sitting alone and he just came right up to me, asked to sit with me and engaged in conversation with me without a single hesitation.”

He looked over at Gandalf again. “That’s rare, you know? I’m used to being treated like I’m less or stupid or untrustworthy because I’m a dwarf. Or they think I’m a greedy miser and they should charge more because I’ve got a hoard stashed away.” He shook his head. “It never occurred to me that the Hobbits might be different. I know they engaged with dwarrow, but not all those of the Blue Mountains are my people specifically. The Broadbeams have always had people who lived there, even after the destruction of the realms in that area.”

“So you enjoyed his company,” Gandalf mused.

“Yes, very much so. He was quite amiable, and he had no preconceived notions about me. He was just as interested in me and my life as I was in his. It was a good night.”

Gandalf nodded and smiled at him. “I am glad. Mainly because you’ll have a better chance of getting him to head to Erebor with us than I will.”

Thorin laughed and finished slipping the branches into the bag while Gandalf got up and wandered back toward camp.

~*~

The sixth or seventh time Thorin heard Flambard harumph and then start engaging Adalgrim in their own language, two and a half days into their journey through the forest, he decided to interrupt, more out of curiosity than anything. “Is something amiss?”

“Nothing amiss,” Adalgrim said, sounding amused. “Just Bilbo being Bilbo, to own the truth.”

“What does that mean?” Dwalin asked from where he was leaning up against a tree. It was midday and they were allowing their horses to have a rest while they ate lunch and relaxed a little. 

“There are patches of healed land,” Flambard said. “It’s got Bilbo’s magic all over these areas. They go out along the path and to the sides. I detected hints of it the last couple of days, but we’ve been clearly hitting the spots where Bilbo’s party rested in the forest.”

Kíli frowned. “So he’s been doing something to the land when he’s stopped?”

Flambard nodded. “He’s a gifted Healer. That doesn’t just mean people. It also includes animals and the lands. Truth be told, all Hobbits can heal the land. Bilbo has just a little bit extra to offer up, so he can do more and a little better job than the average Hobbit.”

Adalgrim walked over to one of the trees and pressed his hands against it. Thorin watched, amazed, as his hands started to glow green. Flambard joined him after a moment and the tree soon started to glow just as they did. Before their eyes, the tree lost its dullish grey look and the weird growth of moss or fungus or whatever it was withered and vanished. The leaves on the lowest branches started to grow and turn a healthy green.

After ten minutes, the entire tree was healthy, much like those throughout the Shire. Thorin realized then that as much as the darkness might have dissipated, the forest was still not well at all and needed all the help it could get.

Adalgrim and Flambard sat down, looking a little tired. “Bilbo can do a full tree on his own with only a fraction of the energy and magic it took us to do that,” Adalgrim said as he plucked out three slices of travel bread and handed them to Flambard. “Granted, that was for demonstration. It’s easier to heal the lands beneath and let it spread out to all the trees in the area, which is what Bilbo did, but it takes longer for the trees to get the same effect and will need several healings.”

“So why do you think he did it?” Fíli asked. 

“To use his magic since he likely hasn’t had a lot of opportunity, and just to help the forest along. The more healing the land has, the faster the sickness and effects of the dark magic will fade away.”

Flambard nodded. “We have to use our magic kind of like we have to use muscles, which is why we often have you lot practicing and using it. Adalgrim and I have been doing what Bilbo has done, but on a lesser scale. This is just showing off on his part.”

Thorin snorted, long used to Flambard’s sniping about his cousin’s antics. It reminded him of his and Balin’s long-running bickering over the state of their hair and Balin’s premature whitening and aging, which happened amongst Dwarrow from time to time, for no discernable reason.

He looked over at Balin and smirked, tossing his hair a little when he caught Balin’s attention. Then he laughed when Balin threw a small rock at him for the effort.

Dori stared between the two of them and sighed. “It’s a bit stuffy in this forest. I wish there was some kind of breeze.”

Gandalf nodded. “The old forests like this have that sort of feel. If you want to feel the wind, you’ll have to climb a tree. The canopy is thick and we’re in the center of the forest currently.”

“Right.” Dori started rummaging about in his pack. “I need lighter layers.”

Thorin shook his head and pulled out some biscuits to snack on, and then he dozed a little until it was time to move on.

~*~

The next afternoon they came upon a battlefield, in which there were several spider corpses around the path for some distance.

“These are spiders?!” Ori half-shrieked. “They’re bigger than us! A few are even bigger than Gandalf!”

“They’re offspring that descended from Morgoth’s great spider, Ungoliant. I’ve heard tale that her daughter, Shelob, lives in the caves of the mountains between Ithilien and Mordor...or what’s left of it.”

“She did. Bilbo and the elves killed her,” Flambard said, peering at one of the crumpled spiders from his pony and huffing. “Bilbo. Honestly, why does he get to have all the exciting things happen to him? Just once I’d like to be involved in his shenanigans!”

Later, Thorin thought as dozens of spiders suddenly dropped down in their midst and attacked, he was going to give Flambard Took a good whack upside the head. He pulled his bow, firing rapidly to take out as many as he could.

“I take it back! I take it back!” Flambard yelled from the other side of the clearing, and Thorin couldn’t help but snort. He pulled his sword and then grunted when his pony reared and he fell off its back, landing on his own. 

Thorin swung out his sword and took off an attacking spider’s legs before stabbing at its head the best he could manage. He then flipped over and slammed his hands into the ground and let his magic flow out through the soil and reaching for the rock around their group. He pulled, yanking them through the ground and knocking the approaching spiders back while building a wall around the sides of the road. 

More stone shot up as Fíli and Balin joined his efforts, while others battled those still within the stone walls. Vines began grasping and ripping apart the spiders, sending the few that weren’t caught in either trap shrieking and skittering away. 

Thorin felt a weight drop on top of him and a sharp prick to his back, and everything went dark.

~*~

The next thing Thorin was aware of was a wet cloth wiping at his forehead and cheeks. He fluttered his eyes open and stared at an all too familiar face, one he’d been chasing for months. “Bilbo,” he murmured.

Bilbo smiled down at him. “Good morning, Thorin. It’s good to see you finally awake.”

“How long have I been out?” he asked, content to just lie there and look at his One. For that was what Bilbo was...it was what he missed all those months ago, sitting across from him that single night. It was so much easier to feel it deep within with his magic unlocked.

“It’s been two and a half days since the elven guard found you battling with spiders. They were able to find the ponies that bolted, so they and your bags were all accounted for. But the spider venom combined with the sheer amount of magic you lot used had you, Balin, and Fíli out since. Fíli and Balin awoke earlier today, but they said you used more magic than they did. They just aided yours.”

Thorin nodded. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“A few had spider bites and stings, Fíli and Balin included, but their venom isn’t deadly. It knocks you out on your arse, but they like to keep their prey alive.” Bilbo grinned down at him. “If you wanted to catch up with me that badly, you know, you could have just sent a missive to several travel points.”

Thorin smiled back. “But it was much more fun to chase you across Eriador… That and listen to Flambard get into snits. His hair gets all bushy when he’s irritated.”

“I know. It’s highly entertaining,” Bilbo agreed. “So, Dwalin said you lot found the orc party that was actually on its way to look for you.”

“Azog was looking for me?” Thorin asked with a frown. “How did he know I would be out and about, or where we lived?”

“I don’t know, but while I don’t understand Black Speech, the twins do, and they were talking about you specifically. Someone’s been telling tales about your ventures, but he shan’t be doing much about it now.”

Thorin grinned at that and picked up Bilbo’s hand, threading their fingers together. “According to Dwarvish culture, I could consider the slaying of my mortal enemy an intense gesture of courtship...practically a marriage proposal.”

“I hardly think it was a marriage proposal, considering I haven’t even received a kiss from you,” Bilbo said, his tone teasing as his eyes danced with good humor.

“Oh, well, we can’t have that,” Thorin said, sitting up and pulling Bilbo closer at the same time, slotting their mouths together for a slow, sensual kiss. He smiled against Bilbo’s lips when he released a little sigh and nipped at his bottom lip before pressing little kisses against Bilbo’s jaw and down his throat.

“Okay,  _ now  _ that was a marriage proposal,” Bilbo said, his voice breathy. 

Thorin pressed his face into the crook of Bilbo’s neck and laughed. 

Bilbo chuckled against his head. “Are you hungry?” 

“I’m  _ starving _ . Now I understand what Flambard and Adalgrim meant when they said using magic takes energy. And why they ate three pieces of travel bread after using it to heal that tree.”

Bilbo kissed his temple and pulled away, slipping out of reach with a grin when Thorin reached for him. “Why don’t you have a bath and I’ll get you a tray?”

“Will you stay with me while I eat?” Thorin asked, not wanting to be apart from him now that he found him.

“I will. I mean, so long as another elf doesn’t go into labor. Six of them went into labor yesterday and gave birth between yesterday afternoon and this morning. Kíli has been sitting with you when I was helping elsewhere.”

“Elrond told us about the baby boom,” Thorin said as he swung his legs over the side and reacclimated himself to sitting up properly.

“He didn’t know the half of it,” Bilbo said with a laugh. “That was apparently just the first wave. There are over a hundred and fifty others in various stages of pregnancy. Some are only weeks along, some are just starting to show very slightly. Others have started to show with much more significance since Legolas left here for Rivendell. Thranduil had no idea.”

Thorin snorted. “If only we Dwarrow were so lucky.”

Bilbo hummed. “You might well be,” he admitted. “From what I’ve read of your history and learned from Thranduil...when I can tolerate talking to the sod, that is…”

Thorin snorted at that, because he knew Thranduil even at his kindest could be rather vexing. “I remember his temperament well.”

“Right. Well, from what he said, your people didn’t used to have the problems with procreation that you have now. And he’s been around since early in the First Age, so he knows your people better than many in this realm would. He said your lot used to have apparent magic, had much longer-lived lives, and did not have breeding problems. He wasn’t, however, aware that your magic had been blocked by Morgoth and Sauron until Adalgrim was explaining it to me in his vicinity.”

“So what you’re saying is, that with the unbinding of our magic we might alleviate those problems?”

“It’s a distinct possiblity, especially if we use a combination of healing anything that might have gone wrong because of the suppression, fixing your diet because from what I understand it is usually atrocious, unblocking your magic and teaching your people to use it, and using herbal blends if we can find one that works with your people to help along anyone wanting babies. There shouldn’t be a problem.”

“That’s actually comforting,” Thorin said as he ran his hands over his face.

“I’m sure. At this point it’s only a theory because it’s not like anyone is around to ask that actually knows, but it could be that Sauron only completed it when the Rings of Power didn’t corrupt the Dwarrow like he wanted. I mean, it was likely done partially earlier to make you lot susceptible, but if he wanted your people dwindled and unable to stand against him, attacking your magic by blocking it almost completely makes sense.”

“It does,” Thorin agreed and stood up. “I do need that bath. I can still feel that spider dropping on me.” He shuddered.

Bilbo snorted and pointed to a doorway. “Bathtub is in there. The handle on the right is hot water, the left is cold. There’s an herbal blend I left on the side of the tub for you. Once you’ve got the water the right temperature, dump it in under the running water. It will disperse it better and will help with any lingering stiffness.”

“Thank you. Where are my bags? I need clean clothing and I don’t relish flapping in the breeze in front of a bunch of elves while I’m here.”

Laughing, Bilbo pointed to the sofa that was facing away from Thorin’s position. “On the sofa there. Dori said to put aside all the dirty laundry and anything that might need mending and he’ll take care of it.”

“I will,” Thorin said, tugging Bilbo closer and resting their foreheads together. “Feel free to come into the bath and talk with me if I’m still in it when you come back.”

“Oh, I will,” Bilbo said, poking him lightly in the stomach. “You’ve got to tell me all about what it is you’re planning on doing and how I can help.”

Thorin smiled at him and gave the tip of his nose a little peck. “As you wish.”

~*~

Bilbo hummed softly as he entered the kitchens. He pressed his fingers against his lips, which were still tingling from Thorin’s kiss. He smiled a little. Who’d have thought he’d finally find his Heart Match in a dwarf? And their king no less.

The idea of being married eventually to a king was a little daunting, but Bilbo was up to the challenge. But first he had to make sure Thorin ate and see how his health was doing… And figure out what they were doing exactly because none of the group was talking about it, and Thranduil was walking around like he was sucking on particularly sour lemons since the dwarves arrived, and he didn’t think it was because they were Dwarves specifically.

“Is the dwarf you are watching over awake now, Master Baggins?” one of the kitchen staff asked. Bilbo could never remember his bloody name. Not for the life of him. It was a weird, obscure name even for an Elf. He wasn’t even entirely certain it was Sindarin.

“Yes, he’s awake.” Bilbo found the tray he was looking for and set it on the table. “And starving.”

“I can imagine. I saw how the other two who utilized their magic ate,” he said. “I am at a loss as to where they put it all. Then again, I am always baffled by where you put it all. You are quite small. All that food should not fit.”

“And yet, it does. What do we have already prepared?”

“Since you said that meat and vegetables were vital to replenishing magic and we know Master Oakenshield would be awaking soon, we prepared that meat pie with the whipped potatoes on top. We also roasted some more chicken and his companions were kind enough to present us with a few portions of venison. We also have the roasted mixed vegetables you taught us to make. And of course the dinner rolls.”

“Brilliant,” Bilbo said. “I wonder how much he can put away himself at the moment.”

The elf smiled at him. “Would you prefer to use a rolling cart to take it to his room?”

“Yes, that would be good…” Bilbo huffed at himself. Why could he not remember the lad’s name? It was embarrassing.

“You can’t remember my name, can you?” said elf asked, looking highly amused by it rather than insulted.

Bilbo slumped his shoulders. “No, I cannot. I know it’s a lengthy one and difficult for me to pronounce.”

“Yes, my parents were so kind as to gift me with a name that is quite a burden for others to remember. But to make it easier, you can call me Finn, as most others do...including myself when need be.”

“Thank you. Your name isn’t Sindarin, is it?”

“No, my name is Avarin in nature. Looks similar but it’s distinct from the other Elvish languages,” Finn told him. “So, the cart?”

“Yes, that would be good.” 

Finn helped him fill up the cart with everything he would need and soon enough he was heading back to Thorin’s room.

“Ah, laddie!” Balin called out. “Thorin’s awake?”

“Yes, and probably starving to death in the baths as we speak,” Bilbo replied, grinning when Balin laughed.

“Tell him not to fret about anything at least until tomorrow. We’re all fine and no one has strangled Thranduil with his own hair yet, so we’re good.”

Bilbo snorted. “I’ll let him know.”

He made it to the chambers without being accosted further. Once inside, he heard splashing from the partially open door, so he poured Thorin some of the mixed fruit juice Flambard had prepared specifically for the three dwarves who had drained themselves magically and knocked.

“Come,” Thorin called out.

Bilbo walked in and found Thorin sitting up and scrubbing his hair. “How is it going in here?”

“I soaked for awhile, but I needed to clean my hair. I felt like I had cobwebs in it,” Thorin told him. “Likely not considering there were no webs in the area, but..”

“But it’s the idea of it considering their size,” Bilbo said with a nod. “I can’t say that I blame you.” He patted the back of the tub. “Here, slide back and let me do that. You drink this.”

Thorin rinsed his hands and did as Bilbo asked, taking the drink from his hands. “Thank you.” He hummed after taking a sip. “This is delicious.”

“It will help with replenishing your magic. Eventually you’re going to find you crave certain things. Listen to those instincts, because it’s your magic telling you what you need,” he said as he combed his fingers through the mess that Thorin had made of his hair.

Thorin leaned back and practically purred as Bilbo worked over his grand head of hair. “You’ve got gorgeous hair,” he told Thorin. “I bet there are many a Dwarf who are envious of it.”

Thorin’s deep, rumbling laugh sent a delightful little shiver through him. “Yes, there are. Balin, in particular, is put out by my bounty. He went white and aged prematurely. It happens sometimes...we’re not certain why.”

“Could be magic related. I’ll have to investigate,” Bilbo murmured. “How old is he?”

“I’m 195...he’s twenty-one years younger than me, so 171. But he truly should not look as old as he does, as Dwarrow don’t age as we go along usually. Not until we’re near our time to pass on to Mahal’s great halls. When we reach around 250 and start aging rapidly, we know we’ll return to our father somewhere around ten years later.”

“But Balin’s alright?” Bilbo asked. “We don’t have to worry about him keeling over on us?”

“No,” Thorin said, laughing. “He went white at 65. He was completely baffled when his roots were suddenly pure white. He then cut his hair in some sort of weird protest in a fit of pique due to how it was turning, and then it never would grow back beyond what you see now.”

Bilbo snorted. “Poor Balin. It does sound like a magical problem. When it’s not used or something is wrong, it can act out in the oddest of ways. I don’t know that we can  _ undo  _ all that’s been done, but we can look into it at least.”

“I’m sure he’ll be grateful for any help he can get in that area, even if it’s just to grow his hair out again properly the way he likes it,” Thorin said, still laughing a little. 

“Alright. Let me get some fresh water for you to rinse. Have you washed the rest of yourself already?”

“Before washing my hair, yes,” Thorin murmured and then finished his juice. 

“Good, then once we’re done here, you can dry off and dress and I’ll prepare you a plate.”

Fifteen minutes later, Thorin was plowing through his first plate while Bilbo stood behind him, combing the tangles out of his hair while humming a Shire drinking song. 

The door opened behind them and a strangled sound erupted. Bilbo turned around to find Kíli standing in the doorway, his face flaming red. “Is something amiss, Kíli?” Bilbo asked.

“No! I’ll just…” he jerked a thumb behind him, “come back later. Later. Right. Later. Bye!” And then he stumbled as he tripped over his feet and slammed the door behind him.

Bilbo blinked and stared at the spot where Kíli had been. “What in the world is wrong with him?”

Thorin laughed. “You’re combing my hair.”

“And...so? Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, but to allow a non-family member to do such things as wash or comb one’s hair is extremely intimate.” 

“Intimate?”

Thorin nodded a little. “In many ways far more intimate than even sex. Sex can be about pleasure alone and not be particularly intimate if the people aren’t invested in one another. But for a Dwarf, having another’s hands in your hair...one that’s not related, that is, is considered one of the most intimate things that could be done. The only thing that would be considered more intimate is if you were playing with my beard. Kíli was likely a little shocked and embarrassed to have caught you doing so.”

Bilbo laughed a little. “I see. We have something similar, but it’s within regards to our feet. When I was a young lad of fifteen, I once walked in on my mother giving my father a foot massage. I couldn’t look either of them in the eye for a week!”

Thorin laughed loudly and pulled him around and against his side. “So you understand. Expect Kíli to blush for a few days at least. He’s been an adult for decades but in some ways he’s still a little young for such intimacies. We often don’t start courting and marrying until we reach one hundred years. It does happen younger if we’re so inclined, but most don’t bother until then.

“Their mother met her One when she was eighty-eight. They were wed when she turned ninety.”

“Your sister?” Bilbo asked. He recalled Thorin had mentioned siblings but he didn’t remember the details.

“Yes. Her name is Dís. She was the youngest. There is a brother between us, Frerin. He is with her in the Blue Mountains right now. He sustained injuries from a battle decades ago that bother him even now. It wasn’t feasible for him to travel with us as he is. He could have accomplished it, but not without a great deal of agonizing pain. So I left him in charge with Dís to ride herd over him and everyone else.”

Bilbo hummed as he walked back around to continue combing Thorin’s hair, since he clearly didn’t mind Bilbo being all up in his business. “And what is it that brings you all the way here? Clearly you had an agenda, and I know that it wasn’t trailing after me.”

Thorin laughed. “In a small way, it was. Gandalf approached me and we discussed Erebor, our old home, one day while I was in Bree. I had been considering Erebor for some time, since our people are not doing very well in the Blue Mountains now and it’s coming upon time for us to have to move elsewhere. He suggested we attempt to get it back.”

Bilbo quirked a brow at the back of Thorin’s head. “And what, pray tell, is keeping you from this Erebor to begin with?” He had a good idea from previous conversations with the elves, but he wanted to hear it from him.

“Smaug, the last Great Dragon on Middle-Earth.”

“Oh, for Yavanna’s sake!” Bilbo threw his hands in the air and shook his head. “That ridiculous wizard. No wonder he was looking for hobbits.”

“You in particular,” Thorin replied. “We found out later that he went to see you at the beginning of April to talk to you about it, but you were gone.”

Bilbo frowned and then rolled his eyes. “Impatient wizard. The only days I was gone from my home in early April was when I went to Frogmorton to purchase some things I needed for my traveling. They were out of stock in Hobbiton, but a cousin told me that they saw plenty of what I’d needed there. I left at first light one day and was back mid-afternoon the next. I rode there with a friend and caught another ride with a family heading back in my direction. If he had just waited, he would have caught me.”

“Amusing, since he has more patience than Eru himself when Flambard and Adalgrim are poking at his nerves,” Thorin said. “At any rate, he did not return until the day my company was to meet you. As you know, I was running late for that.”

Bilbo grinned. “Yes, I remember.”

“When I got there, we ran into Flambard and Adalgrim, and they took us to meet your Grandfather, which was how we found out about our magic, got all our supplies, and did the research on the dragons.”

“Where is this Erebor?” Bilbo asked. He knew it had to be nearby, but he wasn’t sure where exactly or just how far away.

“Not that far from here. Perhaps ten days to two weeks worth of travel, since there are no roads and we have to take care about catching the dragon’s attention,” Thorin mused. 

“So tell me what this plan of yours is for the dragon.”

And Thorin did as he ate, and Bilbo had to admit, it was a fairly well-thought-out one. When Thorin finally finished, he asked, “This Durin’s day. When is it?”

“October 19th.”

Bilbo frowned. “You do realize that it’s only August 12th, right? That’s still over two months away.”

“I do, but when we made our plans, we did not know about Durin’s day, nor did we account for having such a quick trip. We added in time for delays we thought inevitable.” He leaned his head back and grinned at Bilbo. “We didn’t account for having a valiant hobbit in front of us, slaying all the enemies before us and paving the way.”

“Ridiculous dwarf,” he said, kissing Thorin’s temple. “So we have some time. Good, because I want to look over Óin’s notes, work with him on his healing abilities, and see about that ax in Bifur’s head because it’s making me crazy seeing him walk around with it. I keep waiting for him to fall and hit it or knock it into something. It’s going to do nothing good for my nerves.”

He huffed and poked Thorin when the dwarf laughed at him, the sod.


	7. Chapter 7

Thorin knew he couldn’t avoid Thranduil forever after the formal greeting, but he’d been doing fairly well for the most part. Luckily for his company, the elven-king hadn’t spread his arsehole behavior to all of his subjects, because most of the elves were congenial enough, even those who were more standoffish. 

Thranduil’s youngest, Legolas, was delightful and always up for a conversation. He was also curious in the extreme once he relaxed, as he clearly didn’t know much in-depth about Hobbits or Dwarrow and was always up for a story when his time allowed. Legolas’ siblings also comported themselves well, though two were more concerned about the babies that had invaded and taken over their lives than the dwarrow currently visiting their home. As they should be in Thorin’s opinion. 

But as was inevitable, Thorin found himself unexpectedly in Thranduil’s company, unsure of what to say simply because he had nothing kind to say to the elf. 

“Going to Erebor and poking at a dragon is a rather pathetic end to a long life...for a mortal,” Thranduil said after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Thorin turned his head and stared coolly at him. “You assume we’re going to be unsuccessful. Why? Because you had to rely on a hobbit to take care of what no Elf or Man could and break the black magic on your own bloody forest?”

“You have hobbits in your company, so you do not exactly have many stones to throw in that regard,” Thranduil returned. “How much of the burden will they be carrying out with this endeavor? Will you hide and stay safe while they burn, run and abandon them when things get tough? After all, they’re just two little hobbits. Nothing significant in the grand scheme of things.”

“Something  _ you’re _ well-versed in, are you not? You sat on your arse and didn’t lift a single finger to help my people. Turned a blind eye to others’ plights. You allowed allies to burn and suffer and starve and die of exposure and their injuries. How many of our children died because you couldn’t bother to even offer the most basic of care?” 

“Your grandfather-”

“Was not the six-year-old little orphaned girl I held in my arms as she died from infections due to the burns inflicted upon her because she had the misfortune of passing through the main halls with her mother while on the way to the bloody markets!” Thorin roared back. “Nor was he the fifteen year old boy who would cry himself to sleep between my siblings every bloody night and later took his own life at  _ thirty  _ because his father pushed him aside just in time to keep him from being eaten by Smaug, and he had to watch his father eaten intead and then watch his mother and little sister die from their injuries!” 

Thorin stood and strode over to lean into Thranduil’s space. “My grandfather wasn’t the dwarrowdams who miscarried due to injuries or lack of food, or the fathers who starved themselves to feed what little they had to their wives and children. 

“You didn’t help us with the dragon. I understood  _ that _ . But I never did and never will understand why you would allow people who never did anything to you to suffer as we did. From what I understand, it was no different for the Men of Dale.” Thorin gave him a bitter smile. “But Men have short memories to go along with their short lifespans. I’m sure that once they were settled and no longer an inconvenience to you, you threw them a few bones and they forgot all about you leaving them to rot.”

Thranduil glared back. “And why should I have helped your people? Thrór was a gold-mad monster who cared so little for his people that he amassed a fortune so great there was no other outcome than to have a dragon drop on top of your heads! He was greedy and cruel and cared little for his own people. Why should I care when he did not?”

Then he stood and towered over Thorin. “Why should I care about the abominations that never should have been, when your own kind cannot bother to aid you? Time and time again we have given you a chance to prove you deserve the life you’ve been given, and time and time again it has come back to bite us. One could say that the dragon did Middle-Earth a  _ favor  _ that day.”

Thorin clenched his fist and tensed, ready to clean the arrogant bastard’s clock, when a stern voice came from behind them.

“That’s enough!” Bilbo snapped, pushing between them and separating them using his magic a few moments later. His glare shifted between them and his magic thickened in the air. 

Bilbo finally focused on Thranduil. “You’re thousands of years old. You might want to think about acting like it! You might also want to remember that even though Aulë made the Dwarrow, it was Eru himself who chose to breathe full life into them and willingly give them a place in the world. And then more or less fondly patted Aulë on his head for his cheek and sent him on his way. 

“And when Yavanna petitioned for us to be brought into being, he allowed Aulë to help her! So clearly,  _ Eru  _ didn’t have nearly the problem with it that the Elves do. Jealousy, perhaps? Insecurity, maybe? The real question is, oh great elven-king, who are  _ you  _ to second guess the choices of Ilúvatar, or to take it upon yourself to decide who should live in this world and who should die?” 

Bilbo’s smile was cool and insincere. “I’d be careful about who you call abominations, especially when talking of an entire race, when your real issue is with individuals now long dead. It’s ugly behavior and only makes you look like a malicious, petty blight on the world. _ Do better _ and learn to stop blaming everyone else for your problems. Learn to be a decent fucking person in this world, or sail for Valinor so that you don’t infect the next generation with your bloody stupidity and bigotry! There is enough darkness in this world without your bitterness infecting it further.”

Then Bilbo turned to stare at him and Thorin managed to pick his jaw up off the floor. “Come with me. We are going to have a talk.”

“Yes, Bilbo,” Thorin said, shooting Thranduil a glare as he followed Bilbo out. He followed the angry hobbit down the hall, ruthlessly suppressing the thread of amusement he felt at watching Bilbo’s hair frizz out like Flambard’s often did. Apparently it really was a family trait. 

He did not find comfort that he angered him. When they reached Thorin’s room and closed the door behind them, he said, “I am sorry, Bilbo. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Bilbo held up his hand. “I’m not angry with you. I have no doubt that he planned on very skillfully poking all your most sensitive places, even those he likely didn’t intend upon hitting. I heard the entire thing. I’m just...furious with  _ him _ . He’s been stomping about and sulking like a bloody toddler for the two weeks you lot have been here.”

“I should not have let him goad me,” Thorin said as he sat down. “I’ve done my best to avoid him since the official meeting, and I certainly had no intention of meeting him alone.”

Bilbo snorted. “Your comings and goings here are fairly predictable. I arrived just as Thranduil prodded at you because I knew it was likely I’d find you in that study at this time of day. He was there on purpose. He wanted to goad you into an argument. He’s looking for a reason to kick you lot out or perhaps prod you to the point that you engage in a physical altercation and he can justify tossing your arse into a prison cell.”

Thorin sighed. “We really need to leave.”

Bilbo took his hands and squeezed. “And we will as soon as we can. But until then, I need you to keep your temper in check no matter how much of an arsehole he is.” Bilbo kissed the tip of his nose and smiled a little. “Bifur is doing well. He’ll be ready to travel in another three to five days. I was actually looking for you because he’s awake now.”

“That is good news.”

“It is, but I don’t want to have to break you out of a cell or instigate a rebellion amongst the elves. I’m entirely certain half of them would be on our side, but can you imagine the sulking and blame that would head our way from the Great Blond Drama King?”

Snorting, Thorin nodded. “I’ll do my best. I just… What he said…” Thorin felt his eyes start to sting and he blinked rapidly.

“Was horseshit,” Bilbo replied firmly. “Don’t even think on it, love. As far as we hobbits go, we know you’d never do anything of the like to us. The plans we have proves that beyond a doubt, and he speaks from a place of ignorance and what he’d likely do. I think it’s been a very long time since he cared for much of anything.”

Bilbo pressed a kiss to his cheek. “There is nothing wrong with you or any Dwarf at all. Aulë wanted you  _ so badly _ he risked Eru’s wrath to make you, and Eru chose to embrace your existence rather than just wash you away like you never existed. 

“The Elves are suffering from nothing other than a case of jealousy because a younger sibling is getting the attention they expect for themselves. And it is very clear throughout history that Dwarrow and Elves have gotten along swimmingly when they put in the effort. And look at Legolas. He’s as beautiful as his father on the outside, and yet far more beautiful on the inside, in spite of being raised by him. He doesn’t look at you lot and see abominations.”

Bilbo snorted. “I actually saw him coo at the portrait of Gimli that Glóin likes to pull out whenever he can.”

Thorin laughed at that. “That photo is  _ wildly  _ outdated. He’s in his sixties now. The only reason he’s not with us is that he broke his leg in two places in an accident just before we left.”

“Oh, ouch!” Bilbo said, shaking his head. “But Glóin is getting along with him, which I think we all can agree is a feat unto itself.

“As to Thranduil’s opinion that you had it coming with regards to the dragon, it’s complete horseshit. No one deserves a dragon to come down upon them, not even with the kind of treasure Erebor had. And your grandfather was ill and needed help. I have no doubt that the suppression combined with the Ring of Power you said he had made his madness even worse. I am sure that he cared for your people, even if he couldn’t help but be consumed by his illness.” 

Bilbo huffed. “Thranduil talks out of his arse. Pay him absolutely no mind.” He kissed Thorin’s mouth. “Now, I know it rankles you to be here under his roof, but think of it this way if it helps.”

Thorin quirked an eyebrow. “What way?”

“You’re not here because you  _ need  _ to be, or because you need  _ his  _ help. You’re waiting on your One, whose help Thranduil needs, as I was sent to aid the Healers Thranduil requested and learn more about the birthing process firsthand. And if you need to take it a step further, we’re using his realm as a safe place to right the health problems you lot have been suffering from, so that we may better defeat the dragon.”

Thorin huffed a little laugh. “So we’re using his reluctant, nearly non-existent hospitality to further our own goals.” 

“Just so. And we get to scour his libraries for anything useful as well. So it’s a win for us, while he walks around like he’s eating rancid lemons. It irks him we’re here, but he wouldn’t dare throw us out. Imagine how that would look to Elrond’s people, especially since you lot were most welcome in Rivendell, and he bloody well knows it because Flambard and Adalgrim have made it a point to mention it repeatedly in his presence. They’re really put out with him.”

Thorin laughed. “Alright, I’ll try to remember that he’s being obnoxious because he’s sulking and not let him get to me. But if he keeps this kind of shit up outside the Greenwood, I reserve the right to punch him in the face.”

“Not if I beat you to it,” Bilbo muttered. “The arrogant bastard.”

“We can all take turns,” Thorin said as he stood. “Let’s go and see Bifur. Did he reacquire his language skills like you’d hoped?”

Bilbo tugged him toward the door. “Yes, he can speak Common now quite well. Still occasionally slips in a Khuzdul word since he was so used to only speaking that.”

“That will make it easier for everyone.” 

~*~

Thorin sat in his rooms working on the preliminary lists of things they needed to assess once they reclaimed Erebor when a knock sounded on the outer door. “Come!” he called out as he wrote down a note to find a way to the map library so they could find the plans for the city.

He glanced up and was surprised to find Legolas hesitantly standing in the doorway. “Legolas! To what do I owe this pleasure this morning?”

“I heard that you were leaving in three days,” Legolas said after a moment.

“We are,” Thorin said before motioning him in. “Come in. I promise I do not bite...at least, not unless you ask nicely first.”

Legolas laughed, looking a little surprised by his words. He also blushed a little. “I do not think that Bilbo would take it too kindly if I were to ask you to bite me.”

“Probably not, but he is rather adorable when he puffs up in indignation.” Thorin motioned to the chair. “Sit, please, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

Legolas slid gracefully into the seat across from him. “I heard that Elrohir and Elladan would be traveling with you to Erebor.”

Thorin nodded. “They are. Apparently they refuse to allow Bilbo to get up to shenanigans without them, as Flambard and Adalgrim would say. I cannot say I’m sorry for their help, as there are so few of us.” 

His eyebrows rose when Legolas only nodded but didn’t say anything further. He smiled a little when the elf actually started to fidget, something that was so unlike an Elf, as they often moved with grace and deliberation. “I promise that I won’t be angry with whatever you have to say or ask me.”

“You do not like my father,” Legolas blurted out suddenly.

Thorin huffed a little laugh in surprise. “No, I cannot say that I do, but there is a history there that makes it difficult to get past. At this point, the best I can hope for between us is to be extremely reluctant allies, and even then I would not trust your father to, as Glóin likes to say, spit on my eyebrows if they were on fire.”

Legolas snorted. “Glóin is full of unusual sayings.”

“Sometimes I wonder if he stays up at night just to come up with something to entertain us all later,” Thorin admitted. “But the fact is, we trusted him to aid us, and he ignored our people at the time of our greatest need.”

Legolas flushed and nodded. “I heard your argument. It was wrong of him, what he said, and what he did during that time.” He looked down. “I am shamed that he allowed anyone to die in such a terrible manner when we could have helped. I myself was not in the area at that time. I was further south in the Greenwood when the dragon came. When I returned, your people had already left the area and I knew not that my father was so base as to deny even the most basic aid to your people due to his anger at your grandfather.”

He sighed and slumped down, an action that surprised Thorin. “I cannot deny that I was raised to think unfavorably upon others. Dwarves, in particular, were the object of his ire and Thrór specifically, but Father has never held Men or Elves outside of the Sindar in high regard either.” Then he smiled a little. “Bilbo has relieved me of the burden of thinking I am superior to anyone.”

Thorin laughed. “He told you off, didn’t he?”

“Most soundly,” Legolas said, grinning when Thorin laughed again. “He was very cross with me, but he understood that it was Ada’s teaching.”

“You’re not all that old for an Elf, are you?” Thorin asked.

Legolas shook his head. “Make no mistake, I have been an adult for centuries. I am 516 years accoring to the Common calendar, and we become adults at fifty, but I have led a sheltered life. Ada is very restrictive, and he has isolated me from the other Elf kingdoms, so that I only have met a handful of my own race outside these lands. I went to Rivendell only recently, and mostly because he wanted me to charm Elrond into sending Healers to our realm.”

“I’ve heard he and Elrond are not the best of friends,” Thorin said. 

“No, they are not. And I have only been as far as Lake-town a few times when needed. The only Man I am familar with is Bard, but that is mostly because he often does transport to and from Lake-town and us. I meet with him and speak with him whenever he arrives at the exchange points near the forest and river.”

Thorin thought he understood what Legolas was trying to say. “You have no real experience outside these forests and only know what your father has taught you.”

“Yes,” Legolas said, looking relieved. “Bilbo has helped with my understanding. I have met him before. He’s ventured into the forest and visited...that was before the whole Ring thing. I was also on the far side of the forest when he and the twins and Glorfindel were traveling through there on the way back from Mordor. I spent some time with them as they camped. My father, as you can imagine, wasn’t thrilled.”

“No, I can’t imagine that he would want anyone to influence you unduly,” Thorin murmured. Then he tilted his head as he studied Legolas. “You wish to come with us.”

“Yes. I am weary of my father’s determination to keep me from the world. I know that he loves me, but there have been times I have wondered if I am a burden for him to bear.”

“I cannot see how you would be,” Thorin said, frowning at him. “A child such as you would be a gift for your people, I would think, and your father specifically. You are intelligent, kind, beautiful, powerful, skilled...and open-minded enough to acknowledge when you are in error and make an effort to right your perceptions. I would think he would be proud to have such a son.”

Legolas shrugged. “I above all my other siblings remind him of my mother. He lost her not long after I turned fifty to the orcs. I do not know what she endured, but he has had word that she has chosen never to leave Mandos’ halls, so my father is free to remarry if he so chooses. I do not know that he ever will, but he has the option. He has said that it is his choice not to enter the Halls of Mandos willingly or to stay there permanently should something happen and he dies.”

“I can understand how it might be difficult, but I would also think that he would cherish you even more. Perhaps that is why he is reluctant for you to go beyond your borders. Fear that something might go amiss or break you to the point you will leave him too.”

“Perhaps, but whatever his reasons, I find myself restless and weary of these lands.”

“So much so that a dragon appeals?” Thorin asked, amused at the thought while being a little horrified at the same time. He  _ almost  _ felt sorry for Thranduil.

“I would not say that Smaug  _ appeals _ , but I think it is a worthy quest and I would like to help where my father would not. That it would take me from here, at least for a time, does.” 

Thorin snorted. “I do not wish to be the one who tells Thranduil I’m taking his youngest to face a bloody dragon.” 

Legolas’ smile was sly. “You say that as if I plan on telling him.”

“And how do you expect to get out of his stronghold without him knowing?” Thorin asked. 

“There is a path that goes north within the edge of the forest. It would allow you to get much closer to the mountain without being visible to anyone or anything watching. We will be able to come out of the forest just southwest of the mountain itself, and we can pick our way through the hills to get to the side of it without being visible from the front doors.” Legolas shrugged. “I will tell father I will escort you along the path. He does not need to know that I plan on continuing on once you hit the divergence point.”

Thorin laughed. “Fine, if that’s what you want. As you said, you are an adult and are responsible for yourself. If you want to go, I am more than willing to have you along.” 

Legolas smiled. “Good. Glóin already agreed that if you said I could go, I could sneak my belongings I want to take with me into his bag. I honestly do not know that my father will allow me back for going against his wishes. I know well he would order me to stay if I asked. Or lock me in a cell until everything was over.”

“If he banishes you, he’s an idiot, and you are most welcome wherever we are,” Thorin said. A little impulsive, but he liked this elf. 

“I thank you. I will retrieve the maps of the northern trails and we can figure out the best path to follow, as there are many trails that loop back on one another.” Legolas stood and bowed his head a little before taking his leave.

Thorin sat back and hummed. Very interesting.

~*~

Bilbo rested back against Thorin’s chest as he peered down at their lists. He shifted a little on Thorin’s lap to get more comfortable. “Everything is ready. All the food for the journey from here to the mountain and for some time after is all cooked and prepared and sealed away so we don’t have to call attention to ourselves with any fires or try to find a place to cook within right away. We are fully stocked to feed up to five hundred people until the caravans arrive, if we are frugal. We can be a bit more generous if there are fewer.”

“I don’t know how many will come from the Iron Hills, but once the mountain is secured, we’ll try to keep the numbers to around three hundred. And I won’t accept any dwarf who refuses to roll their sleeves up and get to work.”

“Meaning no stuffy Dwarf-lords,” Bilbo said, turning his head and kissing Thorin’s jaw. He’d listened to Thorin gripe about some of the upper echelons of Dwarven society who spent more time lording it over everyone than actually being of use to anyone.

“Exactly,” Thorin said as he nuzzled at Bilbo’s ear. It sent a shiver down his back. “Besides, between all of us we should be able to protect the entrances well enough with magic. Like the barrier that is around the Shire.”

“Yes, all Hobbits know how to create it, as we use a smaller version during our travels to help keep us safe. And you lot have been successful at casting something similar, so we should be able to tweak it so that it works with both our magic.”

“Which is a good thing, because who knows who might try to take over the mountain once the dragon is gone. There are some who don’t feel they should ever give loyalty to me, and more than one elf here has mentioned that the Master of Lake-town is extremely greedy and leaves his people in poverty to sate his lust for gold. Not even my grandfather in his deepest madness allowed anyone within our realm to do any less than live very comfortably. No one did without.”

Bilbo hummed and nodded. “Yes, we have to worry about being outnumbered, especially before Dáin can send reinforcements for protection.” He frowned. “Just be sure to tell him to leave anyone at home that isn’t willing to work and that if anyone thinks about being an arse, I’m going to toss them out on theirs for the impudence of being rude to my Heart Match.”

Thorin laughed in his ear. “You’re adorable when you’re all protective of me.”

“I’m the future King’s Consort. I’m not about to let them disrespect you. Or me. Or our entire group, for that matter.” 

Thorin’s lips trailed over the tip of his ear. “You won’t find me disagreeing. I won’t have it either. How are our non-food supplies?”

“We have plenty, what with all that I brought from my aunt. I’ve fully stocked the elves here and have a ton left over, for both the mountain and anyone from Lake-town who might need it.”

“Just be certain that you keep a list of what I owe. I’d not anger your aunt by not paying her what she is due,” Thorin said. “She sounds quite formidable.” 

“She is,” Bilbo said, tossing aside the lists when Thorin finally succeeded in driving him to complete distraction. He stood up long enough to turn around and slide back onto Thorin’s lap, this time facing him. “You’re incorrigible. I’m trying to make sure we’re ready.”

“This is the third time you’ve checked those lists today, and I’d rather your attention is on me,” Thorin said, grinning when Bilbo huffed at him.

“Oh, fine. I suppose you deserve  _ some  _ attention,” he murmured as he ran his hands up Thorin’s chest, feeling the impressive muscles beneath the thin tunic Thorin was currently wearing. He continued up until his fingertips brushed through the short beard. Bilbo grinned when Thorin shivered. “Are you going to grow this out once we regain your home?”

“Would you like me to? You don’t prefer me as beardless as possible?” Thorin asked.

“You’re a dwarf. I don’t expect you to be bare like a hobbit or near to. I think a longer beard would look quite lovely on you, especially with some braids. I want you to do whatever you want to do. But I have to say it would be much easier to get my hands all up in it if there were more.”

“A lovely incentive to let it grow out. I’ll start now,” Thorin said before taking his mouth in a deep kiss.

Bilbo lost himself in the kiss as he continued to run his fingers through Thorin’s beard and tug on the hairs, smiling against his mouth a little when he felt Thorin grow harder beneath him.

“Uncle, do you know where… Oh for Mahal’s sake,” Fíli said, sounding exasperated. “Can you two not lock your doors when you do that? What if it had been Kíli who walked in? It took him three days to stop blushing the last time.”

Bilbo turned to look at Fíli, who was smirking at the two of them. He turned back around but stayed on Thorin’s lap to help hide his not so little problem. “You’re not blushing.”

“I’m not as young or as untried as Kíli is,” Fíli replied. Then he grinned. “Also, Adalgrim likes to play with my beard. And yes, he well understands what it means, I made sure.”

Thorin snorted. “What did you need?”

“Balin was looking for the supply lists. He wanted to double-check we didn’t forget anything.”

Bilbo leaned forward and gathered the papers, holding them out for Fíli. “We’ve got everything listed here, so we’re good on that. I don’t know what we can possibly be missing that the elves would have and be willing to part with, but he’d know better what we might need to get everything up and running.”

“I’ll let him know,” Fíli said as he took the papers. He grinned and winked at them before walking toward the door. “Have fun!” 

Bilbo turned his head and grinned at Thorin. “He’s adorable.” 

“He’s something alright, and the last thing I wish to speak of right now,” Thorin said, setting Bilbo on his feet. Then he stood and picked Bilbo up, walking toward the bed. “We won’t have privacy for some time. I think I can find something better to think about than my nephews and their adorableness.”

Bilbo laughed as Thorin set him on the bed. “You might want to go and lock the door this time. Then get back here and kiss me stupid.”


	8. Chapter 8

Three days into their trip through the forest, Thorin found himself highly amused by Legolas’ antics. Mainly that he was neatly avoiding Tauriel and whatever questions she seemed to want answered. Thorin presumed it was because when it came to her, Legolas wasn’t nearly as stealthy about masking his intentions to continue on with them as he had been around his father. 

It most likely was because he kept going to Glóin to fetch things Thorin presumed he didn’t normally take with him while on any kind of patrol. And that he had one of the dwarrow holding his things instead of having his own small pack. Add in that Thorin was getting a serious sibling undertone from the two of them, and he had the feeling that he would end up with two elves when all was said and done. 

Which was fine with him, because he’d seen the disdain that Thranduil had toward Tauriel because she was a Silvan elf. A distinction that Thorin didn’t recognize before, but after weeks in the company of the elves of Greenwood, he had a better understanding of the hierarchy of the different lines. And apparently according to a certain snob of an elven-king they all knew and disdained, being a Silvan elf was only marginally better than a dwarf in his estimation.

His loss. Besides, Kíli was looking at her with little ruby hearts in his eyes, so Thorin was going to dwarf up and resign himself to the probability of a future elvish niece. 

He startled when he heard a scream and turned in time to watch Tauriel take Legolas down in a flying tackle. Once the ensuing scuffle was over and the leaves settled, Legolas was face down on the ground and Tauriel was straddling his back, holding his hands in place. The few other guards that had come with them were sitting amidst everyone else and looked completely unsurprised by what happened. 

Bilbo, who was working on putting a meal together with his cousins, just rolled his eyes and shook his head but otherwise ignored them.

Thorin grinned and shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to dodge her questions when you’re in that position, Legolas,” he called out.

Legolas raised his head and spit a leaf out of his mouth. “She is a menace. I should send her home now.”

“I only listen to your orders when you  _ make sense _ ,” Tauriel responded evenly. “Now, Legolas, what are you up to? Why do you have all your things within a dwarf’s personal pack?”

Legolas twisted his head back as best he could and gave her a glare. “The same reason that you have yours in a dwarf’s pack.”

“You are Glóin’s One? I thought he was already married,” Tauriel said, smirking at Thorin when he laughed. “His wife will certainly be surprised when she shows up.”

“ _ No _ , although we will be talking about  _ that _ ,” Legolas replied evenly. “I plan on going with the dwarrow to the mountain. And I expect now that you are too, what with your dwarf going as well.”

Tauriel leaned down. “You keep secrets from me, and I keep them from you.” She whacked him lightly on the head and then pushed his face back into the leaves before getting up. “You should know better than to try and keep things from me. You never succeed.”

Legolas turned back over and sat up, brushing away the leaves and dirt. “But trying to do so is a great deal of fun. You get so irritated. If you were a hobbit, your hair would be as puffy as Flambard’s is when Ada irritates him.”

“That’s puffy,” Thorin said to Glóin, who snorted. Thorin was still a little baffled by how calm Glóin was to have an elf latch onto him the way Legolas had, but he supposed that if someone had gushed over how lovely Bilbo was the way Legolas had exclaimed over Aldís, he’d feel particularly good about him too.

Thorin dropped his head back against the tree he was leaning against and turned to Kíli, who was sitting next to him and blushing. “So, an elf, is it?” He grinned widely when Kíli went from light pink to beet red in a few short seconds. 

“Shut up,” Kíli said, reaching over and flicking his nose. Then he huffed. “Are you alright with it?”

Thorin quirked a brow at him. “I thought I was supposed to shut up?”

“Uncle Thorin!” Kíli half-whined as he flopped over and rested his head on Thorin’s thigh. He peered up at him with his best puppy expression. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”

“Put the poor boy out of his misery, Thorin!” Adalgrim said. “I’m tired of him interrupting my snogging with Fíli to hear him lament about how you were going to blow your bloody top! I’d rather be kissing Fíli than listen to him whine.”

Thorin looked down at Kíli, who was pouting up at him, and laughed silently for several moments. “It’s fine, Kíli,” he finally said, running his fingers through his nephew’s flyaway hair. “I have no issue with Tauriel being your One. You have to tell your mother though.”

Kíli, who had beamed at him briefly, suddenly looked worried. “Do you think she’ll be angry?”

“Furious if you don’t tell her before she gets here,” Thorin corrected. “And Frerin will pout if you don’t inform him. Your two younger siblings will plot your demise. Gimli will blow his top at being out of the loop and we’ll be able to hear him coming all the way from the Gap of Rohan.”

Kíli made a face. “Have you ever noticed that we have one of the most dramatic families in all of Dwarven-kind?”

“It’s the Durin blood,” Bofur said cheerfully. “Of all us here, only the three of us are not of Durin’s blood, and thus level-headed and not prone to over the top reactions.” He motioned at himself, Bombur, and Bifur as he said it.

“I’m not dramatic,” Fíli retorted. “Kíli’s enough of a dramatist for the rest of us.”

Kíli sighed. “Why did the mean brother have to come?”

“Because Liefr is only thirty-eight and your even meaner sister is thirty-three. They weren’t old enough, and Dís would have balked at the idea of all her children going.”

“You lot are taking this well,” Balin said. 

Thorin looked up to see he was addressing the rest of the guard, who looked utterly unperturbed by what was going on around them.

One looked up, the one Thorin was certain was named Elion, and addressed Balin. “What these two get up to has been occurring since that one,” he pointed at Tauriel, “was a young wisp of a thing. She would tag along behind Legolas every chance she got, bothering him with questions and asking for help with various things. Just like an annoying little sister.”

“A little sister that can kick your arse as well,” Tauriel said, narrowing her eyes at him.

Elion smiled a little and shrugged. “I never said otherwise. But the fact is, these two have been acting like this for over a century and a half. I expect that they will be the same in another century and a half.”

“And the knowledge that they plan on going with us?”

Elion shrugged. “Legolas’ life is his own and he is above us in station in spite of working with the guard. He is our prince and we respect his choices. His squabbles with his father are his own. As my grandfather would say, these are not my trees, and those two are not my squirrels. What they do is their own decision and has nothing to do with me. A fact for which I am grateful because their dramatics can be very tiring. That they will now be your problem is quite a relief, even if it proves to be temporary in Legolas’ case.” Then he grinned at Legolas, who rolled his eyes but looked back fondly.

Legolas turned to Thorin. “I was very careful in picking my guard. Those who would rush back to tell my father my personal choices I sent out on spider duty.”

One of the other elves turned to Elion. “I, for one, have never been happier to not be a snitch. I  _ hate  _ those spiders.”

They all nodded at one another and Thorin shook his head. He agreed with them wholeheartedly. Then he looked back down at Kíli, who was staring up at him. He smiled softly and patted his cheek. “I am very happy for you, zundushith.”

Kíli beamed at him. 

~*~

Thorin frowned down at the dead orc at his feet while Elrohir and Elladan finished off the last of them. “This is the second time we’ve run into orcs in this part of the forest. What could they possibly want here?”

Elrohir frowned as he cleaned off his sword. “The group we ran across when we left the mountains were looking for you, but that was Azog looking specifically for you. He had a personal issue with you. But that does not explain why these would be here in the forest.”

“We usually do not see them running about the forest in this area. They often crossed along the Old Forest Road before my father ordered repairs to be done since he’s irritated by people using the northern path,” Legolas said, smirking at Thorin when he snorted. “Though there are orcs still at Gundabad, they usually stay far from here, as we’re more likely to patrol closer to Lake-town than we are south of our keep.”

“Raiding parties, I would think, but there is nothing worth raiding in this area,” Tauriel said. 

“It comes back to who knew about your quest if they’re looking for you, Thorin,” Gandalf said. “Are you  _ certain _ you told no one of it?”

“Yes, I’m certain,” Thorin said, exasperated because this was not the first time Gandalf had asked. “I spoke to you about it. I talked to my kin in the Blue Mountains. There was no one there that would have talked out of turn. I mentioned that Erebor was the object of discussion for the meeting with the Dwarf-lords, but I gave no details, and none knew of my choice to actually come here unless they arrived. There were few, and those who did come would not have told anyone else even if they would not help us. Some of the hobbits knew, but I seriously doubt that any of them would have said anything.”

Bilbo shook his head. “No. You told my family, and they’re used to keeping things like that a secret. All Hobbits are. And few venture out except to Bree, and none would have discussed business they were not personally involved in even if they went there. They don’t even discuss the Ring business outside the Shire, in the off chance that someone might take exception to it having been destroyed.”

“I spoke with no one else other than Elrond, and we all know he would not. Nor do I believe any of his people would send word to orcs about our comings and goings.”

Elladan snorted. “Certainly not. My mother had to leave these shores because she was too hurt to stay and survive here. None in Imladris have any love for orcs.”

“The only good one is a dead one,” Elrohir added. 

Thorin looked at Gandalf. “Did you tell anyone?”

Gandalf tilted his head. “I had discussed the idea of dealing with the dragon with the White Council last year around this time, but I never discussed the specifics with them, nor told them what you were planning. Besides, they are most trustworthy.”

“Who makes up the White Council?” Flambard asked. “And can we move away from all these bodies? They stink, and it’s not from decay.”

“The Council is made up of myself, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and Saruman the White. I trust all of them implicitly and none would have any reason to not want you to succeed. Saruman’s only argument against it was that I should not meddle and allow the Dwarrow to take care of their own problems.”

“Charming,” Bilbo said dryly. “And I second moving.”

Gandalf sighed. “I know you’re not Saruman’s biggest supporter, Bilbo. We discussed this several times the last few weeks.”

“It’s not about being a  _ supporter _ ,” Bilbo replied, tone even as he used his magic to haul himself up on his pony. “It’s about the rest of the Council having blinders on when it comes to him and his shortcomings. You just said that he thinks the Dwarves should take care of their own problems. He thinks the same of everyone else. That is a very odd stance to take for someone who was specifically sent here to aid those in Middle-Earth on behalf of the Valar.”

“I do understand his point about not doing everything for everyone,” Gandalf said, “because otherwise they might become complacent in having wizards take care of their problems for them.”

“I think that Smaug, a direct result of Morgoth and Sauron, is a big damn problem for everyone, and quite frankly, a problem that the Ainur dropped on us because they couldn’t bother to finish taking care of  _ their own problems _ ,” Bilbo retorted. “Just like I took care of that stupid Ring while the lot of you just ran around wearing rings that could be controlled by it in the right hands, but whatever.”

Gandalf sighed as he mounted his pony. “Bilbo…”

“He was  _ angry _ , Gandalf.  _ Furious  _ with me that I destroyed the One Ring of Sauron. You don’t know. You weren’t there when he discovered it, but Galadriel  _ was _ . Saruman should have been thrilled, but instead he looked at me like he would have been happy to strangle me for the impudence. He wanted it for his own purposes, I have no doubt.”

“He wished to study it, so that if someone else makes something similar, we might be able to stop them,” Gandalf said. “He told me so himself when the Council discussed the Ring’s destruction. There are still many in Middle-Earth who have enough power to accomplish it if they discover how to recreate it.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “We’re never going to agree on this. While I trust that he was never in Sauron’s pocket, I know he has his own agenda, whatever it might be.”

“Everyone has their own agenda. It’s the nature of being alive,” Gandalf said. “But the fact remains that Saruman has no reason to concern himself with the state of Erebor or whether or not the dragon is killed. He’d have no reason to work with orcs.”

“As you say,” Bilbo said and started forward.

Thorin, who had been watching the two along with everyone else, rode up to Bilbo. “Are you alright?”

Bilbo nodded. “Gandalf and I just don’t agree on the subject of Saruman. I don’t trust him, but I can’t say I distrust him enough to believe he would work with orcs. I am just uncomfortable with him knowing of anyone’s comings and goings, but if Gandalf said he didn’t inform him, then I believe  _ him _ . Gandalf as always been known as trustworthy by generations of my family, even if he’s considered a disturber of the peace.”

Thorin nodded. “We will simply have to keep an eye out for other parties, ensure we place the magic around ourselves and our mounts when we stop even for meals, and continue on with our journey. Perhaps we will discover why they are here.”

Bilbo scrunched his nose adorably. “Would be nicer if there was one smart one among them. All of these, at least, have been battle fodder.”

Thorin hummed in agreement. It was certainly the case. None of them seemed particularly intelligent and well-versed in having thoughts of their own. And while they were deadly in their malice and intent on killing anything in their path, they weren’t trained well at all and were easily outwitted with strategy. But they were deadly in higher numbers.

“Perhaps they are simply wandering about looking for food,” Flambard said behind them.

“Let’s hope,” Thorin replied. 

~*~

No more orc parties waylaid them in the days after the last skirmish and soon enough they emerged from the forest to find the Lonely Mountain looming large before them. They were, as Legolas said, just south and to the west of the mountain, their current position protected from the sight of the front gates by the large hills all around.

“We should rest here for the rest of the day,” Thorin said. “Perhaps scout out the nearby hills to see what we can see around us.”

They started to dismount and Thorin nearly fell when he heard all three hobbits release wounded cries. After scrambling to get down he rushed over to Bilbo. “What’s wrong?” he asked, taking his One from Dwalin’s arms.

Bilbo wiped his face. “The land here. It’s so hurt. Wounded. Not like the forest. That was dark and corrupt, but still alive. This land echoes with death. Death of the plants and animals, of the Dwarrow within the mountain itself.”

“It cries for help that has never come,” Adalgrim whispered, pressing his face into Fíli’s neck. “Begs for justice, begs to be righted. And  _ no one came _ .”

“It’s alone, so lonely, like the mountain,” Flambard said from Legolas’ arms. “We are going to need more hobbits. The three of us won’t be able to fix it alone.”

Bilbo nodded. “When we write to Dís, I’ll write to Grandpa, see what he can do to send some hobbits at least for a time.”

“How are we to move about if you can’t walk on the land?” Thorin asked him.

“We’ll need to use the slippers that we brought,” Flambard said. “The lands haven’t been as bad as we thought they would be, so we’ve not had to use them. This doesn’t  _ physically  _ hurt us. It’s an emotional and magical pain, and it was a shock. None of us were prepared for it.”

“Right.” Thorin looked at Dwalin. “Can some of you place travel mats down so they can sit and find their slippers?” 

Dwalin, Balin, and Bifur all set up mats for the hobbits while the others set up camp. The three took it in good humor while the dwarrow and elves fussed over them, making sure they put on their slippers and they got a meal in them. Thorin had watched the whole thing with amusement, though he was concerned for them.

He looked down when Bilbo tugged on his coat. “Yes?”

“Sit with me,” Bilbo said, patting the mat. “I’m going to touch the land again, see if I can connect with it.”

“Won’t it be dangerous for you?” Thorin asked as he sat down.

“No. The land itself is alive, and while it can’t think exactly like we do, the magic will understand intent. I was simply overwhelmed and not expecting it. Just...hold on to me. You’ll understand, most likely, when we get into the mountain proper.”

Thorin nodded, because he’d felt the magic and life within the stone around Rivendell. It had shocked him in some ways, because he hadn’t expected it to be similar to living earth, but he supposed his magic was primed for it. So he wrapped his arms around Bilbo and let him do what he was going to do.

Bilbo’s hands shook slightly before he rested them on the ground, and he took a deep, shuddering breath but was otherwise silent. Thorin simply held him and kissed the top of his head as minutes passed and turned into an hour and then nearly two before Bilbo shuddered again and lifted his hands.

“Are you well?” Thorin murmured into his ear.

Bilbo nodded. “I am. I think I was able to get across my intent, because it calmed a little. It’s almost like a needy child. It’s been some time since anyone has tended the land. It’s like that in many places, because those who were  _ supposed  _ to do so long abandoned their duties. It is why we Hobbits were created and sent to Middle-Earth. But it’s difficult for us because of the lack of care and the darkness that Sauron had wrought. Now that it’s gone, we’ll be able to venture better.”

“Do you think they’ll be willing to come?”

“I think so, especially when they realize that Adalgrim and I won’t be leaving, and neither will Flambard because where we go, he tends to follow. I wouldn’t be surprised to find some of their immediate families heading this direction.”

“I’ll be grateful for any help we can get,” Thorin said, looking around at the hills before them. “I wonder if these would be good for Hobbits to create homes in, like those of the Shire.”

Bilbo tilted his head as he thought. “I think so. There’s much stone on top, but underneath the lands are still quite fertile. There is simply nothing there to create green life. I think, perhaps, between everything, most of the topsoil on the hills washed away. We can use the stone to create topside buildings along with using wood. We simply haven’t in the Shire because there wasn’t much stone to begin with.”

“Plus the magic of Hobbits can alter the lands for crops,” Adalgrim said from another mat. He was on his back with his head in Fíli’s lap. 

Thorin looked for Flambard, and found him flopped over Elrohir’s back. Elrohir was lying on his stomach, clearly sleeping. He still found it baffling that Elves slept with their eyes open.

“How about we get the mountain back first before we start picking places to plant and which hills might be ideal for Hobbit homes,” Balin said dryly.

Dwalin snorted. “Let ‘em talk. It’s nice to think of a future where we have a good life here back where we belong.”

Elion walked over to Thorin and smiled down at him. “We are going to depart now. We will be taking our time getting home, taking a more scenic route. That should give you more time before the king’s head explodes.”

Thorin grinned up at him. “Thank you, Elion. And you lot are most welcome in Erebor if Thranduil decides to throw a strop and cast you from his presence in a fit of pique.”

“A good thing to know. Until we meet again, King Under the Mountain,” Elion said, and the others waved farewell before the small group melted back into the forest.

Thorin kissed the top of Bilbo’s head. “Rest, ghivashel. We’re going no further today, and we have the time to spare.”

~*~

They took a few days to pick their way carefully toward the side of the mountain. Near the base, they found a good-sized clearing and set up their base camp. 

“This area will be good to leave the horses. We can place our magic around it so no one or nothing will bother them,” Bilbo said as he looked around. “I doubt there are any animals that reside this close to the dragon, but better safe than sorry.”

“I agree,” Thorin said, looking up. “I think we should look for the probable place for the secret door and make note of it. I’m not certain where it exists within the mountain itself, so it may be easier to find it from the outside on Durin’s day. We have the time for it, especially since we need to prepare to enter the mountain.”

“We can start poking around,” Dori said. “We’ll just need to make sure to keep it quiet. No yelling or making a ton of noise. Who knows how good the hearing of that blasted dragon is.”

“And stay well clear of the front doors,” Elrohir said. “We do not want him catching anyone’s scent prematurely.”

“That would not be good at all,” Elladan murmured. “I am far too pretty to die.”

Thorin snorted and pulled out his grandfather’s map. “The representation on the map is not all that great, but it has to be here on this side. It makes no sense to have a secret door anywhere near the front.”

“If there’s a door, shouldn’t there be some kind of path to it?” Bofur asked. “Even if it’s hidden from prying eyes, there should be a clear way up. Otherwise, taking a door to an impassable part of the mountain would be useless.”

“It will be well-masked, especially in the lower section,” Thorin said. “And everyone stay in groups of three at least. Be careful, and keep your eye and ears open for any further signs of orcs or their activity.”

Legolas nodded. “We’ll be able to hear them long before they approach. Each group should have one of us with them.”

Glóin grabbed hold of Legolas’ wrist. “I call dibs on this one.”

Snorts and light laughter sounded around the clearing, and Bilbo rolled his eyes. “The lot of you should try to use your magic and stone sense to see if it will help.”

“Good idea,” Nori said. “It’s gonna take some time to get used to having it and using it without thinking about it.”

“Does everyone have food to get you lot through your search?” Adalgrim asked. “Anyone need refills of anything?”

Thorin conferred with the others for a few moments and then nodded. “We’re fine.”

Bilbo shooed them toward the mountainside. “Go on with you. The three of us can finish setting everything up.”

Thorin nodded. “Tauriel, Óin, and Bombur, stay with our hobbits and help them with the camp. We’ll be back later.”

Bilbo watched Thorin leave and sighed softly when he was out of sight. “It’s unfair how attractive he is. It’s so distracting.”

“He really is,” Flambard agreed as he looked around the clearing and frowned. “Lucky you.”

“Can we please not get all sappy?” Óin groused as he started setting up his gear to work. “I did not get my hearing fixed so I could listen to you lot wax poetic over Thorin’s arse.”

“But it’s such a lovely arse,” Bilbo said, blinking at Óin innocently and then laughing when Óin shot him a rude gesture. “Fine, I’ll keep my odes to Thorin’s bum to myself.”

“Thank Mahal for small favors,” Bombur said with a chuckle. “Should I make a fruit and vegetable plate to go with our evening meal?”

“That would be a good idea,” Bilbo told him. “Also perhaps a cheese platter with some of that thin ham we prepared?”

“Oh, that would be good. And add some of those savory biscuits. They’ll pair well with that,” Adalgrim added.

“Do you think Gandalf will be back around today?” Tauriel asked after a while.

Bilbo shrugged. “He likes to go and poke his nose around places. There’s no telling what he’s doing, but I expect he’ll be back soon enough. Our plans don’t hinge on him, so at this point when he comes back is of little consequence.”

Tauriel tilted her head as she sat down next to him. “Are you still annoyed with him?”

Bilbo snorted. “Gandalf has proven himself to be frequently annoying. But no, not really. I undertsand his desire to want to believe the best about Saruman. He is the head of their Order and Gandalf has known him since their existence started. But I also think he views Saruman as being incorruptible in a way. 

“I’m not saying he’s corrupt, but I think that Wizards are far more like all of us than they are some perfect omniscient beings or what have you. I think he has Saruman on a pedestal that he doesn’t have a hope of remaining on, and it’s going to be a very long fall.”

Tauriel hummed and then nodded. “I can understand that. I think there are many who look at Elves and presume some sort of perfection or perceive us to be these grand, divine beings. But on our way to Rivendell, I laughed for ten minutes straight when Legolas tripped on air and landed face first in one of the streams we passed. It is not the first time he will be clumsy, nor will it be the last. While we are more graceful on our feet than many, we are not that different.”

Bilbo snorted. “I would pay good money to see that elf fall face-first into a body of water. He’s always so graceful when he fights.”

“If he is around long enough, I have no doubt you will witness some ridiculousness on his part,” Tauriel said.

“Do you think his father will truly exile him for this?” Óin asked as he pulled out the bags of medicinal plants they’d collected as they went through the forest.

Tauriel blew out a quiet breath. “I would hope not, but knowing how rash Thranduil can be, I expect he will in his wrath. I do not know what kind of conversation they had before we left, but I have no doubt he ordered Legolas to return as soon as possible. And once he makes that decision, he will be loath to rescind his initial order, to save face even though he will come to regret it. He loves his son, but I believe he is bitter because his wife has chosen death and let him go. Yet he has told his children he refuses to leave life willingly and permanently because he will not do that to his children.”

“I do not doubt he loves them,” Flambard said, “but he has a ridiculous way of showing it sometimes. Temperamental sod.”

Hours passed before the search parties returned. By then they had everything set up, dinner was ready and waiting, and Tauriel and Bilbo were helping Óin make some of the new recipes the elves of Rivendell and Greenwood had introduced him to. 

“Find anything?” Adalgrim asked as the group converged.

Glóin nodded. “We’re fairly certain we found the beginning of the path about half an hour ago. But it’s blocked, so tomorrow we’ll remove enough of the debris and see if it’s the right one.”

“Fantastic,” Bilbo said. “The basins have been set up over there. Wash up and we’ll get you lot some dinner. We’ve already eaten.” 

Long used to being ordered about by their hobbits, the dwarrow immediately made for the basins and the elves trailed along behind, appearing amused to Bilbo’s eyes. He turned his attention back to the athelas he was crushing and then dumped it into the mixture Óin was working with. 

By the time they were done with the last of the work for the night, the others were all sitting around with plates of food in hand. He wandered over to Thorin and sat down next to him. “I’ll be glad when we can actually start fires again.”

“I as well,” Thorin murmured. “We cannot risk the dragon smelling the fire, unfortunately.”

Bilbo nodded. “I get that. Tomorrow, while you lot are working on clearing the path, we’re going to work on gathering the earth we need for our traps.” 

Thorin leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Just be careful, and make sure you have plenty of protection while you’re working. I’ll be sure to leave more to guard you.”

“We will.”


	9. Chapter 9

Thorin leaned around the rock they were behind and peeked at the front gates of Erebor. “I don’t hear anything,” he murmured to Legolas, who was standing near him.

“Nor do I,” he replied softly. 

They slipped back silently to the rest of the party. “I think we’re fine,” Thorin said. “There’s no sound of Smaug moving around near the doors. He’s likely in the treasury.” 

“Do we know where the plans for Erebor’s layout are housed?” Bilbo asked. 

“I’ve been thinking on it, and it might be more prudent to head into the royal offices. They’re not close to the treasury and we can get to them from the far side of the mountain from it, going around the back way,” Thorin told him. “I traversed those halls so many times in my short life here that I can still see the route.” 

Balin nodded. “We need a place initially to gather so we can connect with the mountain itself. It may be able to aid us in hiding from the dragon until we’re ready to deal with it.”

Thorin closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “There is a large barracks to the right and below the initial entrance to the mountain. The stairs should be about fifty feet to the right once we enter.”

Bilbo nodded. “We have everything we need, right? No one’s forgotten anything?”

“No, we’ve got everything, you fusspot,” Flambard said. “Our dirt, the seeds we needed, every single archer has the special arrows Thorin made. We’ve got all the magical protections on that we can possibly have. We don’t know how well they’ll work against the dragon, but it’s all we can do and we’ll just have to improvise.” 

“Everyone is well-rested and our magic is at top form,” Adalgrim added. “Everyone has rid themselves of anything that would make too much noise as we moved, and loud weapons are in the bags. We’re as ready to take down a dragon as we possibly can be.”

Bilbo blew out a breath and nodded, his gaze turning to Thorin. “You lead, love. You’re the only one who knows this mountain here.”

Thorin nodded and turned toward the mountain, bow in hand and arrow at the ready, just in case. They inched toward the door as silently as possible, and then picked their way across the bridge over the river that ran just to the side of the main gates. 

When they reached the gaping maw of the mountain, they sprinted across the opening where the great gates used to be, before Smaug hammered his way through them. Thorin listened intently after everyone was plastered against the side of the mountain. When all seemed quiet, he nodded to them and slipped through the gates, being careful of the debris that littered the floor and moving slow to adjust their eyes to the slowly darkening atmosphere. 

Once they were through the doors and edging along the inside, he pulled out one of the crystal torches they managed to make in the last couple of days and used his magic to produce just enough light to see. 

He handed it to Dwalin and sent him down the stairs even as he pulled another and lit it, handing them out every few people until he brought up the rear. He wound his way through the group once they were at the floor below. “The barracks are this way,” he whispered. “We can use it for our camp within the mountain.”

He led them the hundred feet or so to the door and pushed it open, wincing a little at the creak of it. 

Nori pulled a container of oil out of their tool pack and quickly oiled the hinges, nodding in satisfaction when it went silent after a few back and forth movements. “That’ll do it for now. Will probably need to be replaced. Looks a little rusted,” he said once the door was closed, and they all relaxed. 

“Alright, everyone spread out and try connecting to the stone,” Thorin ordered, and everyone dropped their things in a pile near the door, while those who weren’t testing their magic took the torches and set them up around the room, increasing the light of them. 

“While they’re doing that, let’s get these old mattresses off the beds and into a pile,” Bilbo told them. “We can use our mats for the mattresses if the frames are still good.”

Flambard, who was inspecting them, nodded. “They seem to be. They’re not big enough for the elves, but there are enough that we can put several together to make the appropriate length and they can lay out the mats and share.”

Adalgrim nodded and looked at Legolas. “You and Tauriel are alright sharing?”

“Of course. It is not the first time we’ve shared sleeping space. She kicks in her sleep, though.”

Tauriel rolled her eyes. “What should we do with the old mattresses?”

Bilbo hummed. “The material and stuffing is clearly no good, but the springs sticking out might still be good. The dwarrow can tell about that, and if not, we can separate them so they can be melted and remade, and the stuffing can be used as kindling. But we’ll worry about it after the dragon is dealt with. In the meantime, we’ll just sit them in that corner over there, near the door.”

The dwarrow were still quiet against the wall when they finished, so they started rearranging the two sets of beds for the elves and pulling mats, blankets, and pillows from packs, placing the individual’s packs on their assigned beds. 

Bilbo and Adalgrim had just finished setting up a snack when the dwarrow finally let go of the wall. “How did it feel? Did you connect?”

“It took some time, but we did,” Thorin said. “You were right in that it is not aware fully as we are, but it is alive and I believe I was able to understand what it was trying to tell me.”

Balin nodded. “Aye. The dragon still lives as we expected.”

“Yes, and it’s asleep currently,” Thorin said. “It did not notice our entrance, thankfully, and I believe the mountain will do what it can to help us from gaining his attention before we are ready. But we cannot linger overlong.” 

“The first thing we need are the layouts for Erebor,” Elrohir said. “Specifically the levels we can use to subdue Smaug enough to kill him.”

“So the first thing we need to do is get to the offices,” Thorin said. “Not all of us need to go. I think a group of six would be enough.” He looked around. “Dwalin, Nori, Kíli, Elrohir, and Legolas, you’ll come with me. Make sure to have the arrows at hand, just in case.”

Bilbo nodded. “The rest of us can try to whip this room into shape if we’re going to use it for the time being. It’ll give us something to do besides worry about you.”

“The bathing room and toilets are through that door there,” Thorin told them. “And if you take the hall further down, you’ll come to the faucets that were fed from the hot springs on this side of the mountain. I don’t know if they’ll still work, but it won’t hurt to try. But you should be safe enough in this area. There are only two ways in and out, and neither is anywhere near big enough for the dragon.”

“Alright. Off with you lot,” Bilbo said, kissing his cheek and handing him two bags. “One has food and water in case you lot get stuck somewhere, and the other is empty for your spoils.”

Thorin nodded and gave everyone a once over before grabbing a torch and heading out, his group traveling behind him. “This way,” he murmured, heading right and down the hall, taking a left at the intersection. 

“How far is it before we head back up?” Legolas asked as they wound through the halls.

“If we go this direction, we’ll be able to head up and then up a second set of stairs closer to the offices than if we’d gone the other way. Plus it’s more protected from the dragon so little risk of discovery.”

“I’m all for not being discovered by a giant fire-lizard,” Kíli muttered. 

Thorin huffed a little laugh, agreeing with that wholeheartedly.

They were quiet the rest of the way up, particularly once they hit ground level. Thorin led them swiftly to the second set of stairs and through the corridors, all the while pressing his hands against the stone, getting a feel for anything amiss. He received soothing pulses, so he reckoned the dragon was still snoring away beneath the ocean of gold he remembered being in the treasury.

He made a signal and everyone veered right into the next room, Nori oiling the hinges at the first hint of noise when they opened the door. Once the door was closed, he brightened the crystal.

“It looks much the same as it did when we left,” Thorin murmured, making a face. “Much mustier, though.” 

“We should not linger. I do not know how good the air quality is in here,” Legolas said. “The whole mountain needs to be opened up and air moved through it.”

“We had a system to do just that,” Thorin said as he strode forward, heading to the metal cabinet that held the maps and plans they needed readily available. He slid open the second drawer and rummaged through the scrolls. 

He plucked up six different ones. “These are the only ones we’ll need at the moment. The rest can wait until the dragon is dead.”

Elrohir nodded. “Let us return to the others. I will feel better being underground in case Smaug notices us, and not cut off from the rest.”

“I agree,” Dwalin said. “Let’s get out of here.” 

The trek back was swifter, especially once they hit the second set of stairs back down. When they returned, they found their things out in the hall. Peeking inside, they found the entire group utilizing the cleaning supplies they brought and scrubbing down the entire room. There was also a light breeze flowing in, bringing in fresh air from outside. “We have the plans,” he said. 

“Good,” Bilbo said, smiling over at him. “There’s a meeting room across the hall. We’ve already given it a first going over to get rid of the initial dust and grime. It has a big table and chairs that are all still good. We can use that to eat at and plan.”

“The airflow system was easy to figure out and it’s working, so we opened it up there as well,” Fíli told him. “There’s food on the table over there for you lot.”

Thorin looked at the others, shrugged, and headed across the hall. He made himself a plate and then sat down, pulling out one of the plans. It was the one for the overall ground floor plan, and he spread it out before him when Kíli moved his plate. Dwalin and Nori helped him pin it down with paperweights found on the nearby shelf.

He plucked up one of the rolls with meat and cheese and bit into it, looking at the plans thoughtfully while he chewed. “From what I remember, this area here is the main celebration hall,” he said, pointing to a large square further back in the mountain. 

“How high is it?” Kíli asked. 

“From what I remember, at least three levels tall,” Thorin said. “Very grand and the chandeliers were quite large. I don’t know if they’re still there or if Smaug ripped them down for his hoard. They were made of diamonds, gold, and mithril.” 

“And this is the main entrance hall, is it not?” Elrohir asked. “Where we came in?”

“Yes, beyond where the inner gates were once. We only came through the primary defenses,” Thorin told him. “There were two sets of doors once. The primary ones were open when the dragon came, but he was still large enough to have to shove his way through and the whole set shattered. The second set we managed to close, but it didn’t take long for him to bust through those. The space beyond that is more than large enough for our purposes, but so are the celebration hall and the primary floor of the marketplaces.”

He frowned. “I would like to stay out of the markets if possible. He could rip through the top floors and that would be a nightmare to fix, if he’s not destroyed them already.”

“Depends on how much gold and jewels were in the area,” Nori said as he went for some more fruit. “I don’t know how much of that might have been sold in jewelry form in the area.”

Thorin thought back. “There was some, but often jewelry was done on commission outside of certain times of years when traders came. We weren’t near a trading time when Smaug arrived. The traders had already left for that time of year. The guildhalls would have had much of the unprocessed gems and metals, as well as pieces in progress.”

“Then the main entryway or the hall,” Legolas said as he peered over Thorin’s shoulder.

Thorin nodded. “Or there are a few areas on the next floor up. I think the throne room would be too difficult to maneuver because of the bridges, and I don’t fancy trying to set up over the dragon’s bloody head.”

Dwalin’s eyebrows shot up. “The throne room overlooks the treasury?”

“Apparently it did once my grandfather was in charge,” Thorin said dryly. “It used to be separated in the vault areas, but once he started delving into madness, he had them remove it from the vaults and place it where all could see the wealth of Erebor, including himself when he had to sit on the throne. And I mean everyone’s funds, not just his own, our family’s personal wealth or Erebor’s. Every single person had their vaults emptied and thrown in here. The only things left in personal vaults were family heirlooms.”

Kíli winced. “All of that together...no wonder it attracted the dragon.”

“It was ridiculous, and Gandalf thinks that Smaug likely ransacked Dale for their treasury and brought down whatever hoard he already had. Apparently they can carry it within themselves. Once we were gone, he could have gone back and forth with no one the wiser.”

Legolas nodded. “I know everyone kept well away from the area for some years. They did not bother with spying on the dragon, as anyone who attempted it never came back.”

Nori sighed. “Let’s look at the rest of the plans and see if there are any other places where we might be able to set up additional options.”

~*~

Two days later, Bilbo was watching as Thorin finished preparing for the confrontation with Smaug. He huffed a little laugh. “How are you not shaking like a leaf?”

“I am scared shitless on the inside,” Thorin said, smiling at him when Bilbo snorted. “I am scared, for all of us, but I cannot afford to let it get the best of me. We have a plan, and it’s a good one. All we have to do is get Smaug into one of the four designated spots and set everything into motion.”

“Just...be careful, please? If I have to bury you before I even get a proper courtship out of you, I’m going to be extremely cross.”

Thorin pulled him close and kissed him soundly. “I have no intentions of leaving you. Are you ready?”

“I am. I think everyone is,” Bilbo said, looking around. The other couples were fussing over one another, and Bilbo snickered when he found Glóin fussing over Legolas’ hair. “Now that is an unlikely friendship that I never thought I’d see.”

“I want to be there when Aldís discovers he’s half-adopted a fully grown warrior elf. Should make for a fun time.”

Bilbo snorted. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Legolas and Gimli will take one look at each other and fall madly in love. Then he’ll have another son.”

Thorin laughed. “I don’t know that we’ll be that lucky, but one can hope.”

Sighing, Bilbo pulled away from Thorin and shifted his bow and quiver. “Let’s get moving. The sooner this is over, the sooner I’ll feel better about the whole thing.”

“I think we’ll all feel better about everything,” Thorin said. “Everyone knows what they’re doing. Let’s go.”

They slid through the halls in the shadows silently, splitting up as designed, Flambard and Adalgrim heading to the two most likely places they’d be able to lure Smaug to, while Bilbo went with Thorin to get Smaug’s attention, in case they needed to lure him to one of the other two places. The archers and dwarrow split up as well.

The scent of sulphur and smoke invaded their nostrils as they neared the treasury, growing even thicker as they began seeing coins scattered along the floor. 

Bilbo’s mouth dropped open when he got a good look at the ‘treasury’. It was more of a vast sea of gold than anything else. He knew, of course, that there was a lot, but he’d never imagined  _ this _ . 

Bilbo and Kíli readied their bows while Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin knelt down and braced their hands against the floor. After a few minutes, Bilbo felt their magic flow out beneath him and toward the treasure. The gold began to ripple and split apart in waves, and a vast rumbling came from the center of the room as Smaug awoke. 

He had expected large. He had expected to feel tiny in the face of Smaug. But what began rising from the vastness of the golden ocean around him was beyond what he could comprehend. Smaug’s fangs were larger than he was!

“Who dares to disturb my rest?” Smaug said as he shook off the gold from his body and stretched. “Who is foolish enough to steal from me?”

“It is you who is the thief,” Thorin said as he stood tall. “It was you who came from the darkest, foulest depths of the world to steal our home, to steal the lives of our people, to steal the food from their mouths and the clothes from their back. You were terrible and vicious. Fearsome.

“Now look at you. Fat and lazy. Pathetic. Laying about like the useless worm all of your kind are.”

“And yet your mountain is mine,” Smaug said, slithering in their direction. “And it will remain that way. You made a grave mistake coming here. You should have walked away.”

Bilbo glanced at Kíli, then down at the gold and ruby cup that rolled to his feet when the gold shifted. He quirked a brow at Kíli and then reached down to snatch the cup up. He brandished the cup at Smaug, who zeroed in on him. “Maybe so, but I’m taking this with me when I go!”

All of them turned and bolted as Smaug roared his outrage. “You weren’t kidding about him being furious about taking something from him,” Bilbo said to Thorin as they darted right at the intersection. The ground beneath their feet trembled as Smaug thundered after them.

“No. Flambard’s research said taking anything, even a single coin, would enrage him,” Thorin said. “Left!”

They sprinted around the corner and down the hall just as fire spewed in their direction. They led him on a merry chase, having to double back in some instances when Smaug cut them off. After what seemed to be an eternity but couldn’t have been more than half an hour, and many near-misses, they managed to get him into the grand ballroom, where the chandeliers and the large gold statue of Durin still resided.

How he’d not discovered them, Bilbo didn’t know, but the way the statue was lit seemed to enchant Smaug into stopping. 

Adalgrim and the others slid in behind Smaug and the three hobbits dropped to the ground, sending their magic out into the room, searching for the seeds in the damp dirt. The hemp and several different types of ivy burst from the ground in thick vines and shoots, while a few of the dwarrow ensured the roots anchored into the stone. They directed it toward Smaug, who was paying it no attention until he tried to move and he discovered his tail and much of his lower half was twisted in the plants.

He shrieked and flailed, rearing back and struggling with his balance, paying little attention to the archers in front and above him. Bilbo looked up, entranced, as he watched Thorin release his arrow, it finding its mark. Arrows loosed by Elrohir, Legolas, and Kíli followed directly after, two of them hitting him in the open scale. Kíli’s, by sheer dumb luck, lodged in one of Smaug’s eyes when he jerked forward. Bilbo presumed he was attempting to protect his vulnerable spot from more arrows, but it hardly helped. 

“Get out of the way!” Balin yelled at those above them. 

They ran and threw themselves to the sides as Smaug spewed fire at them before flailing about again, ripping the plants out of the stone as he rolled onto his back and flopped around like a fish, all the while screaming in pain. Elladan and Tauriel took the chance to lodge further black arrows into his chest, and with one last spew of fire, Smaug twitched and shuddered as he breathed his last. 

Or, Bilbo hoped it was his last, but he wasn’t about to go over there and find out.

Bofur clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, that was bracing.”

Bilbo turned his head and stared up at Bofur, who just beamed at him. “Bracing. Right. Just the word I was looking for to describe being chased through half the mountain while dodging fire and an enraged dragon yelling about how he was going to eviscerate us before he ate us.”

Bofur just nodded. “There’s always a perfect word for every situation,” he said cheerfully. “So, is he dead?”

“Seems to be, and the research you brought said the black arrows would kill him. One should do it, giving it a few minutes to work, and he was pierced by several. But you’re more than welcome to go over there next to his head and see.”

“I think I’ll pass on that one,” Bofur said. “Did he do much damage while he chased you lot?”

“More than I would like and less than I feared,” Thorin told him as he limped over to them.

“Are you alright?” Bilbo asked, looking at him with concern. “Why are you limping?”

“Landed a little oddly on my ankle when we dove out of the way,” Thorin told him as he leaned against a pillar and slid down. “It’s not broken. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll look at it when we’re certain he isn’t going to rise from the floor and kill us all,” Bilbo said. “Bofur’s question is valid, though. Is it really dead?” He nearly fainted when Legolas jumped onto the dragon’s belly and walked toward the missing scale. 

“He’s insane,” he whispered to Thorin, who nodded.

Legolas just smirked over at him and then dropped down and pressed an ear to Smaug’s chest. “There is no heartbeat,” he told them, and then he moved to peer at the hole where the arrows pierced his chest. “The arrows have dissolved and I can see something happening within.”

Elladan nodded as he joined Legolas on top of Smaug. “The research said if the arrows were done properly that they would dissolve and destroy the flesh within the dragon. It will only leave the skeleton and the outer hide and scales.”

“That’s...disturbing,” Bilbo said with a sigh. “And those arrows only work on dragons, right?”

“Yes,” Thorin assured him. “Anyone shot with them will not be harmed other than what damage they would receive being shot by an arrow.”

“Good,” Bilbo said. “We should look at your leg.”

“It will wait until we return to our camp.” Thorin grasped his hands when Bilbo reached for his boot. “It’s not hurting badly and I’d rather not be near the dragon if we do not need to be.”

Bilbo nodded and stood back up. “Will you two get off the bloody dragon?” he said up at the two elves who were studying Smaug’s gem-covered belly. “He might be dead, but my poor nerves aren’t!”

“So fussy,” Legolas said, grinning when Bilbo shot a rude gesture in his direction. 

“Get down here, laddie, before he pops a vessel,” Glóin told him, though to Bilbo he looked a little concerned as well. 

Choosing to let that go, Bilbo motioned to Fíli and Kíli. “Help your uncle up and let’s get out of here. We’ll let the magic of the arrows do what it needs to do. We’ve got more important things to do.”

“As soon as Bilbo is done fussing over everyone,” Thorin said, laughing when Bilbo poked him sharply in the side with his finger, “I want to see if we can find any of the old ravens that used to live here. We need to send a message to Dís and to the Shire. I’d also like to send a message to Dáin. As much as I dislike having to rely on his people, we’re going to need some help until those from the Blue Mountains can arrive.”

“So long as he leaves the arseholes at home,” Bilbo replied as they slowly made their way back toward the front of the mountain.

“I’m exhausted,” Kíli said as they picked their way over debris that had fallen due to Smaug’s rampage. “Even my hair is exhausted. I don’t know how that’s possible, but it is.”

Bilbo laughed softly. “It’s probably just your magic is tired. Mine is too. We used a lot today in dealing with him.”

“And likely the only way we managed to get away as unscathed as we did,” Flambard said. “I hate to think what would have happened had things not played out as they had and the dwarrow arrived without the arrows and unable to use their magic.”

“Smaug would have likely caused a lot of damage,” Thorin said. “The Valar were watching over us.”

Bilbo sniffed. “As well they should since Smaug is part of their mess they left on Arda for people not even alive during those times Morgoth ran amok to deal with.”

“Bilbo Baggins!” 

Bilbo rolled his eyes as Gandalf’s yell echoed through the great hall. “We’re coming! Keep your hair on!” He huffed and looked at Thorin, who had snorted. “It’s a good thing Smaug is dead. Gandalf getting eaten by an irate dragon or letting him know we arrived would have been problematic.”

“Agreed,” Thorin said as they exited one of the side halls and entered the main entrance hall of the mountain. They found Gandalf on the opposite side, near the doors. “What news?”

“There was another orc party about of significant size,” Gandalf said. “They were looking both for you and Azog. Apparently his absence was noted. It was led by an orc named Bolg, who was Azog’s son.”

Adalgrim took a deep breath and then shook his head. “You know what? No, I don’t want to know how he had a son, considering orcs don’t usually procreate the way other peoples do. I don’t want to know at all. So what happened?”

“I and a man and a group of elves on patrol near there were able to destroy them, Bolg included,” Gandalf said. “I came here directly to alert you to the problem and discovered your ponies. I left my horse there.” He looked around. “The dragon is dead, I presume?”

Thorin nodded. “He’s in the celebration hall. The magic of the arrows is currently working on him. According to the research, that will take a few days to two weeks, depending on the size.”

“And considering the size, I’d give it the full two weeks,” Bilbo added.

Fíli frowned. “Should we be worried about the orcs?”

“I would be concerned because there have been parties looking for you, but I cannot say that they’re an immediate threat. It seems that Azog was the leader, and Bolg his second I’m presuming. Still, I would ensure your defenses are raised sooner rather than later.”

Thorin sighed and looked at Balin. “We’ll need to look for the ravens as soon as we rest a little. I’d like to get them up in the air to see if there’s anything we need to be worried about, and to get word to Dáin.”

“Food, rest and fussing first,” Bilbo ordered, shooing them back through the entrance and down the stairs. “No one who means mischief can get past the temporary barrier we set up. Tomorrow you lot can see about making a temporary physical barrier until doors can be remade.”

Thorin smiled indulgently at him. “Of course, Bilbo.”

Bilbo smiled back and pointedly ignored the groans and gagging noises the others were making.


	10. Chapter 10

Bilbo hummed as he made some final notes on the parchment for the set of rooms he was in and then set it on the table near the door. They had decided that the virtually untouched rooms in the levels above the main kitchens were the best place to settle in for the winter while working on other parts, and so they were sweeping in according to their expertise and making notes on everything that needed to be done to make it habitable for the winter. 

Bilbo’s job was to assess the types of dirt, grime, mold and mildew and decide what cleaners would be the best ones for that particular room. Thanks to Flambard and Adalgrim, and Bilbo himself since he’d brought most of what Mirabella had sent with him to the mountain, they had a wide variety, but the job of restoring Erebor was going to be massive and they still needed to be frugal in not using the stronger cleaners or the wrong type if they weren’t needed. 

After looking around once more he headed out and nearly ran into Flambard. “I’m going to make you wear a bell,” Bilbo said as he clutched at his chest. “You scared the wits out of me.”

“You say that like it’s a challenge.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you were on Arkenstone-searching duty.”

“We found it,” Flambard said as he walked with Bilbo to the next rooms. “Thorin has it now.”

“Is he still in the treasury? They aren’t showing any signs of gold-madness?” Bilbo asked as he walked in the opened door and used his crystalline torch to look around. “I’m going to be glad when the route to the crystal caves is unblocked. We need more light.”

“Me too. And they’re fine, no sign of madness,” Flambard told him as he raised his own torch to peer at the walls. “Going to need some of the mold cleaners. We’ve got that greenish-black mold on this wall. And yes, Thorin was in the treasury when I left, laughing at Glóin.”

Bilbo snorted. “What did Glóin do now?”

“Well, he clearly was still a little tipsy from the celebratory drinking some of them did last night, and he managed to climb atop a very high pile of gold. He was standing on it, not very steadily mind you what with the tipsiness and the constant shift and slide of coins, and then he threw his hands into the air and declared himself king of the mountain. 

“Then he lost his balance completely, tipped forward, and rolled arse over tit down the big gold mountain and sprawled out on his belly, head first, at Thorin’s feet. When I managed to pull it together and leave, Thorin was sitting next to Glóin and laughing his perky arse off and Legolas was attempting to help Glóin up but was laughing too hard to actually be of any use.”

Bilbo laughed. “This is our family now.”

“Yes, and I can’t say I’m too sad about that. They’re different, but fun.”

“That they are.” Bilbo sighed. “I have another fifteen rooms to get through. Help me, so we can go and work on sorting the supplies we’re going to need.”

Flambard nodded and they got to work on the room, Flambard writing down the information while Bilbo examined the rooms.

As they moved on to the next, Bilbo said, “I wonder if we’ll hear from Dáin today.”

“Thorin said that he should probably hear from Dáin in the next couple of days. He wasn’t sure when the raven scouts would be back. It depended on how far they went out. Kíli was asking about it when we were looking this morning.”

“I just hope that Dáin listens and doesn’t send any arseholes.”

Flambard laughed as they entered the next suite. 

Several hours later, they returned to the entrance of the mountain, where the dwarrow were working on removing the debris. Thorin was sitting at the table they’d brought and placed just outside, looking at a parchment. A raven was on a makeshift perch next to him, pecking away at some berries and an egg.

“Letter from Dáin?” Bilbo asked as he placed his lunch on the table. 

“Yes, it just arrived,” Thorin told him. “He congratulates us on reclaiming the mountain and will be escorting those coming from the Iron Hills personally while his son watches over their realm. He said he’ll be looking for volunteers among the guards and those in the fields we need for the restoration specifically before branching out. He’ll bring additional people to help with any big jobs like clearing stone and such, and to make sure there are enough here in case of immediate issues. They’ll leave with him before the weather turns too bad. He’s also bringing additional supplies for us and his own people.”

Bilbo nodded. “We can have Glóin clean up some of the gold for payment for him. He’s accepted the position as Head of Treasury, hasn’t he?”

“He did. Everyone has officially accepted their positions on my Council,” Thorin told him. “He’ll also be Guildmaster of the Financial Guild. I doubt that in spite of his efforts, Dáin will get to keep all the arseholes out of either group of dwarrow that come. Other than those here who either fill the Council and Guildmaster positions, I’m refusing to fill any others until those coming from the Blue Mountains return.”

“You are King. Your word is the law,” Bilbo said. “And if they don’t like it, I offer my services in reminding them of that fact with the application of a flat iron skillet I found in the kitchens to their face.”

Thorin laughed a little. “I will keep that in mind. Just keep it handy once they arrive. How were the rooms you looked over today?”

“Dirty, but mostly intact. Most of the wood furniture is either too brittle to be used or needs repair. Green ribbons were tied to those that just needed cleaning but would survive through the winter. A yellow one went on those that needed repairs to be utilized, and red ribbons on those that are hopeless and can be used for kindling and firewood.”

Bilbo munched on an apple slice as he thought. “The mattresses on the beds and the linens are a lost cause. They’ve rotted and some were infested at some point, but there didn’t seem to be a lot of live bug activity. Then again, it’s been a long time since anyone has lived here, and there wouldn’t be much for them to eat. Still, they’ll have to be removed and burned.”

“They can be taken down to the forges and boiler rooms to be used for kindling,” Thorin said. “What can we do about mattresses?”

“Flambard said that they brought thick materials that we can use, and they brought seed for the fast-growing plants we use to stuff mattresses in a pinch. They also sent wool and cotton for stuffing. Those of us with travel mats can use those. They’re as good as a mattress until we can get better ones made.”

Thorin nodded. “I told Dáin that if anyone was opposed to roughing it for a good length of time, they’ll have to provide their own luxuries. I did note that the mattresses were proving to be rotted from what little we’ve seen.”

“Good,” Bilbo said as he cut into his sausage. “We made note of all the cleaning that needs to be done, but from what I read from the others who went through first, the infrastructure of them seems mostly intact. A few need new pipes in a few areas, but seem to be only in certain spots. They won’t know for certain if they missed anywhere until the water starts flowing, but they want to fix those sections first.”

“Now that the Arkenstone was found, we can disperse the others to more vital jobs,” Thorin said. “When I last saw them, Balin, Ori, and Adalgrim were face-first in the books and research they’ve brought with them, working on a more effective set of defenses for the front gates.”

Bilbo nodded. “Adalgrim is good at the defenses thing. If they can find some properly Dwarvish ones to layer with them, more’s the better.”

Thorin nudged his plate. “Eat. Talking can wait.” 

A caw called out above their heads and they looked up to find a pair of ravens descending upon them. They landed on the table and shook out their feathers a little.

“Torac. Riat. What news, my friends?” Thorin asked them while Bilbo stood up and filled bowls with berries, eggs, and water for them.

“We searched North. Orcs in Gundabad are active but look to be settling back in for winter. Are hunting but West and South of Gundabad. Taking kills back to their horde. Heard them talking to goblins of Misty Mountains. Say that their boss called off attack on Erebor. Leaders dead, so need to wait for new ones to be made. Tell goblins go back to High Pass.”

Bilbo sighed in relief. The last thing they needed was an attack from the orcs anytime soon. “They didn’t say who this boss is?”

“No. Never give name,” the other raven told him. “We rest then go to Misty Mountains to check Goblin-town.”

“Thank you, my friends,” Thorin said, taking the bowls from Bilbo and setting them in front of the ravens. “Be sure to rest thoroughly and eat well. We stocked our supplies with the ravens in mind, hoping you were still around.”

“The dragon not bother us. We too small for him,” the first said. 

How Thorin knew who they were was unknown to Bilbo, but he hoped to learn. “Aren’t there some who went South?” he asked as the ravens dove into their food. 

“Two went to Khazad-dum, to see if the orcs were stirring there, and another two went directly South to see if there’s any movement from that area,” Thorin replied. “I’m hoping that with Azog and Bolg dead, they’ll be leaderless enough to think twice about coming here this winter.”

Bilbo nodded. “Hearing the Gundabad orcs and the goblins are settling in for winter in their own lairs is comforting, but we still shouldn’t be idle. The magic for the entryways and the reconstruction of the two sets of gates is vital. Even with Dáin’s people working here, there won’t be enough to weather a major attack without them.”

“I agree. Our three researchers are also looking into the books Elrond sent us to see if there’s something we can used to expedite the recreation of solid stone doors.” He rubbed his forehead. “We also need to head up to the secret door tonight.”

“Ah, right, it’s Durin’s day,” Bilbo said with a nod. “A group of us can head up around five and wait.” He munched on a savory biscuit. “We also need to block out the area for the stables there on the other side,” he said, motioning to the opposite side of the gates. 

“Will we be able to protect it?” Thorin asked. 

“We’ll take it into account when we put up the protections. The small valley here in front of the doors forms a V, so protecting the narrow end of it won’t be difficult. We’ll make sure it fits, but I want to block out the area so that no one dumps crap into that section unless it’s specifically for the building of the stables itself.”

They grew quiet as Bilbo finished his meal. Then he gathered his dishes and walked around the table to press a kiss to Thorin’s mouth. “Be careful with whatever you’re doing the rest of the day, and don’t leave for the secret door without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

~*~

“It’s pretty up here,” Bilbo said as he stood near the edge, looking out over the hills toward Long Lake as the sun began to set. “But it will be much prettier when we fix the land and Dale gets rebuilt.”

“Do you think it will?” Fíli asked from next to him. Thorin was on his other side. 

“If the men won’t do it, I’m sure we will. But I’d prefer that the men aren’t dumb enough to let it languish.” 

Thorin hummed. “I hope not. It was once the major trade center of the Northeast. I hope it will become one once again.”

Bilbo wrapped an arm around Thorin’s waist and squeezed. “We’ll make sure it does, whether or not the men of Lake-town help us.”

The three eventually walked away from the edge and waited with the others who were along in case anything went wrong.

“The other ravens who went South arrived a couple of hours ago,” Thorin told him when they leaned against the wall of the hollow. “They reported seeing small groups of orcs traveling toward the forest and further South, but none are big enough to be of concern and they didn’t seem to have a grand purpose to their movements. They thought they were likely hunting packs and most likely originated from Khazad-dum or they had some kind of underground lair in that area. They did not stay past ensuring that they were not headed this way.”

“Good, though I’d feel better if I knew who this boss person was,” Bilbo said.

“I as well,” Thorin replied. “But we can only deal with what is before us, and that’s quite a lot.”

“Right.” Bilbo nodded. He peered down at the thrush, which was still picking at the snail and was completely unconcerned with their presence. 

Finally, the light hit the face of the surface of the rock and they watched as a keyhole appeared. Thorin immediately slipped the key in and opened the door. 

“Now to see where this takes us,” Thorin said as they propped open the door. “Legolas, you’ll stay here until we come back up? Just in case the other side is blocked?”

“Of course,” he said, sitting against the propped open door. Tauriel and Dwalin joined Legolas and started talking amongst themselves.

Bilbo took Thorin’s hand and held up a crystal torch in the other as they followed the tunnel down. He snorted when he saw where they’d come out. “The treasury. I should have figured, what with your father dragging your grandfather out.”

Fíli sighed. “I’ll go and get the others, make sure the door is closed.”

Thorin huffed. “We could fill the bloody lake with all this gold and still have enough left over to last an Erebor full of dwarrow ten lifetimes. No wonder we attracted Smaug.”

“I know. It’s ridiculous, but Glóin has said he’s found indications that the treasury of Dale was indeed added, and that there is other gold that isn’t minted with symbols of either Erebor or Dale. So he likely brought whatever he had before he came here.” Bilbo patted his arm. “We’ll get it sorted, back to the proper people if we can, and then figure out the rest of it.”

“Roac experimented with various weights of gold inside that pouch Flambard made. He says it matters not how much seems to be in it. It still feels the same to him, so we can send on the payment to your grandfather for himself and your aunt.”

“Good. I need to write Grandpa Gerontius and tell him to go ahead and implement what we have planned in the event I don’t return to the Shire for various reasons. I’ll also need to send a list of what I want him to send me from Bag End.” 

Thorin squeezed his hand and they looked over the vast fortune of Erebor until the others joined them.

Fíli clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, uncles. Let us go and see what Bombur has made for dinner. I’m starving.”

“You had half a dozen biscuits outside not ten minutes ago,” Dwalin groused at him.

“And I’m still starving, so let’s move it, baldy!” 

“How about I snatch that hair from your head and we’ll see who gets stuck with ‘baldy’ as a name, shall we?” Dwalin said, chasing after Fíli as he yelped and fled down the stairs. 

Bilbo looked over and saw Legolas reading a piece of parchment and seemingly amused. When Legolas looked up and saw him watching, he smirked. “Ada has sent me a missive via one of his carrier pigeons. It found me outside a few minutes before Fíli came to get us. He has discovered what I’ve done and is…”

“Hopping mad?” Bilbo provided.

“Yes, exactly that. He has ordered me home.” Legolas folded the parchment and slipped it into his tunic. “I will not be returning home, however, as he has informed me also that Tauriel has been officially banished from Greenwood on pain of death should she return.”

“No great loss,” Tauriel said, “as my future is here.”

“Your father is an idiot,” Bilbo groused. “We’ll deal with him when we have to deal with him. Let’s go and get some dinner and keep Dwalin from incurring the wrath of Adalgrim.”

Thorin laughed and squeezed his hand, and they followed the elves down into the depths of the mountain. Bilbo knew there was a hard road ahead, full of daunting tasks and the threat of a not-so-distant unknown enemy, but he wouldn’t be anywhere other than where he was at that moment.


End file.
